e  Third  Degree 


UC-NRLF 


MUEL  FRENCH,  28-30  West  38th  St.,  New  Yc 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE 

A  Play  in  Four  Acts 


BY 

CHARLES  KLEIN 


Copyright,  1908,  by  CHARLES  KLEIN 


ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED. 


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NEW  YORK . 

SAMUEL  [FRENCH 

PUBLISHER 

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LONDON 

SAMUEL  FRENCH.  LTDT 

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STRAND 


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In  its  present  form  this  play  is  dedicated  to  the  reading 
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than  one  thousand  dollars,  or  both;  in  the  discretion  of  the 
court. 

Act  of  March  4,  1909, 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE.  u' 


CAST. 

characters  are  named  in  the  order  of  their 
appearance.) 

ROBERT  UNDERWOOD 

MR.  BENNINGTON 

HOWARD  JEFFRIES,  JR. 

MRS.  HOWARD  JEFFRIES,  SR. 

CAPTAIN  CLINTON 

DETECTIVE  SERGEANT  MALONEY 

POLICEMAN 

DOCTOR  BERNSTEIN 

MRS.  HOWARD  JEFFRIES,  JR. 

ELEVATOR  ATTENDANT 

HOWARD  JEFFRIES,  SR. 

RICHARD  BREWSTER 

JONES his  clerk 

Servant 

SYNOPSIS  OF  SCENES. 

ACT     I.    ROBERT   UNDERWOOD'S   apartment   in 
New  York  City. 

The  curtain  will  be  lowered  for  a  few 
seconds  in  this  act  to  indicate  the 
lapse  of  a  few  hours. 
ACT    II.     Library    in    the    home    of    RICHARD 

BREWSTER. 

ACT  III.     The  same. 

ACT  IV.     The  dining  room  in  the  Harlem  flat  of 
HOWARD  JEFFRIES,  JR. 


3S4733 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 
BY  CHARLES  KLEIN. 

ORIGINAL  CAST. 

RICHARD  BREWSTER Edmund  Breese 

HOWARD  JEFFRIES John  Flood 

HOWARD  JEFFRIES,  JR Wallace  Eddinger 

CAPTAIN  CLINTON Ralph  Delmore 

ROBERT  UNDERWOOD Francis  Byrne 

DR.  BERNSTEIN George  Barnum 

MR.  BENNINGTON Walter  Craven 

DETECTIVE  SERGEANT  MALONEY Alfred  Moore 

OFFICER Henry  Brown 

ELEVATOR  ATTENDANT William  Wray 

JONES VERNER  CLARGES 

SERVANT  AT  BREWSTER'S William  WRAY 

ANNIE  JEFFRIES Helen  Ware 

MRS.  HOWARD  JEFFRIES Grace  Filkins 

SYNOPSIS  OF  SCENES. 

ACT  I.     The  rooms  of  ROBERT  UNDERWOOD. 

ACT  II.     Law  Office  of  RICHARD  BREWSTER. 

ACT  III.     Drawing  room  at  MR.  JEFFRIES'. 

ACT  IV.     Living  room  of  a  Harlem  Flat. 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE 


ACT  I. 

SCENE: — UNDERWOOD'S  Art  studio.  This  scene 
represents  the  room  of  a  man  of  artistic 
tastes,  who  sells  on  commission  antiquities, 
bric-a-brac,  bronzes,  old  ivories,  tapestries, 
paintings,  statues,  etc.,  etc.  It  is  tastefully 
designed  to  set  off  the  various  art  creations. 
Before  the  fireplace  L.  i.  a  large  handsome 
Davenport,  with  sofa  cushions,  back  draped 
with  a  piece  of  handsome  tapestry,  or  Persian 
or  Oriental  rug;  above  It  a  4-leaf  hand- 
painted  Spanish  leather  screen,  above  the  fire 
place  a  Japanese  Teakwood  stand  with  hand 
some  large  lamp  (practical)  before  the  upper 
end  of  Davenport,  a  handsome  table  antique 
In  design,  on  which  is  a  decanter  of  Scotch 
whiskey,  Syphon  of  seltzer,  2  high  ball 
Glasses,  Silver  Cigarette  box  with  cigarettes, 
Silver  match  safe,  and  ash  tray,  cut  glass  jar 
with  cigars — a  light  Louis  XVI  chair  In  dark 
upholstery  R.  of  this  table.  Below  fireplace 
against  wall,  a  Colonial  grandfather's  clock. 
Betzveen  fireplace  and  clock  a  small  stand,  on 
which  are  several  bronze  figures,  or  Ivory  carv 
ings;  up  c.  a  large  archway  and  Bay-window, 
in  which  is  a  window-seat.  This  seat  is 
covered  with  a  very  large  black  rug,  medallion 
size;  on  the  seat,  are  displayed  various  art 
5 


c  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

creations,  such  as  Paintings,  water  colors, 
vases,  large  Bronze  Pieces,  Tapestries  or  rugs. 
These  paintings  must  be  in  oil,  some  in  hand 
some  gold  frames,  some  in  shadozv  boxes,  some 
imitations  of  old  masters,  unframed.  Some 
stand  on  seat  and  two  or  three  on  stage  lean- 
ing  against  seat;  according  to  the  taste  of 
producer — Against  walls  R.  and  L.  of  Archway 
are  handsome  tapestries.  The  Portieres  to 
arch  in  c.  are  handsome  Tapestry,  and  work 
and  draw  back  (IMPORTANT)  with  silken 
cord  around  c.  from  L.  to  R.  Grand  piano 
set  up-and-doivn  stage,  keyboard  down  R. 
against  curve  of  which  is  an  antique  armchair. 
Above  this  an  antique  harp,  below  chair  a 
large  foot  rest  of  the  ijth.,  Century;  to  the  L. 
of  arch  an  ecclesiastical  settee  or  antique  bench, 
in  L.  corner  of  Arch  a  handsome  stand  with 
desk  telephone.  Above  settee  on  wall  L.  of  arch, 
hangs  on  oil  painting.  Beneath  Tapestry  on  R. 
wall — another  oil  painting.  A  little  R.  of  R.  c. 
hangs  a  very  handsome  and  ornate  chandelier ', 
such  as  are  used  for  dining  tables.  It  must  con 
tain  4  amber  lamps  of  16  candle  power.  This 
must  be  hung  so  it  will  hang  about  2%  to  3 
feet  above  the  head  of  the  gentleman  who 
plays  HOWARD  JEFFRIES,  JR.  Underneath  the 
chandelier  and  a  little  below  it  is  a  table 
of  antique  design,  on  which  is  masked  with 
book,  a  square  box  corrugated  mirror  reflector 
large  enough  to  contain  a  32  candle-power  am 
ber  lamp,  so  placed  as  to  throw  its  rays  on  the 
face  of  JEFFRIES,  JR.,  as  he  stands  under  the 
chandelier.  Behind  the  table  a  high-backed 
antique  chair.  On  wall  over  door  R.  2  and, 
high  up,  an  electric  picture  illuminator.  Be 
low  door  R.  i.  E.  a  man  in  armor,  on  pedestal;  be 
low  this,  close  to  it,  a  large  Chinese  or  Japanese 
vase.  A  large  vase  or  two  of  the  same  kind 


JHE  THIRD  DEGREE.  7 

in  archway.  To  the  R.  of  the  Piano,  another 
large  piece  of  antique  furniture.  A  large  East 
Indian  rug  or  medallion  covers  the  floor.  There 
are  black  fur  rugs  in  front  of  doors  L.  3  and 
R.  i.  E.  ;  back  of  R.  L.  a  large  brass  bowel  in, 
which  is  some  water:  for  lighted  cigarettes. 
A  Tiger  skin  before  the  fire-place.  Handsome 
antique  brass  fenders,  fire-dogs,  shovel,  brush, 
etc.  At  F.  P.  electric  light  switch  (practical) 
R.  of  D.  R.  i.  E. 

CURTAIN  RISES  ;  UNDERWOOD  is  discovered  up  c.  at 
telephones;  he  has  receiver  to  his  ear.  He  is 
distrait  and  nervous  in  manner,  has  a  lighted 
cigarette  in  one  hand,  and  all  through  scene  he 
unconsciously  keeps  lighting  one  and  throwing 
it  away. 

UNDERWOOD.  Who?  Bennington!  Yes — Send 
him  up.  (He  hangs  up  receiver.  His  face  betrays 
fear  and  anxiety,  comes  slowly  down  to  back  of 
table,  drops  cigarette  in  large  brass  bowl  containing 
small  amount  of  water  on  floor  back  of  table,  then 
\comes  slowly  down  to  lower  end  of  couch,  seats? 
himself  and  picks  up  newspaper  nervously,  scans  it, 
awaiting  BENNINGTON'S  arrival.  Momentary  pause 
and  BENNINGTON  enters  from  L.  3  E.,  comes  to  R. 
of  table  near  c.  UNDERWOOD  looks  up  at  him,  lays 
aside  paper)  Bennington — this  is  a  surprise. 
BENNINGTON.  Yes. 
UNDERWOOD.  Sit  down. 

BENNINGTON.  I  haven't  time — thank  you — my 
mission  is  rather  a  delicate  one,  Mr.  Underwood. 

UNDERWOOD.  The  art  and  antique  game  is  a 
delicate  business — God  knows  it's  a  precarious  one 
— Have  a  drink? 

BENNINGTON.  No,  thank  you — I've  come  to  warn 
you,  Mr.  Underwood,  that  the  firm  is  about  to  ask 
you  to  return  their  property — everything. 

UNDERWOOD.  Why  ?  I've  sold  lots  of  things  for 
them  at  big  prices. 


8  THE  JHIRD  DEGREE. 

BENNINGTON.  I  know — but — the  fact  is,  Mr. 
Underwood,  they've  received  information  that  you've 
sold  many  of  their  valuable  art  subjects  for  which 
they've  received  nothing  at  all. 

UNDERWOOD.  That's  not  true — (Rises  quickly  and 
nervously)  Have  a  cigar? 

BENNINGTON.    No,  thanks. 

UNDERWOOD.  (  Takes  cigarette  from  cigarette  box 
which  he  doesn't  light)  I  can  account  for  every 
thing — if  they'll  give  me  time — they  must  give  me 
time — I'm  hard  pressed!  (Seats  himself  again) 
My  expenses  are  enormous — and — I'm  much  obliged 
to  you  for  warning  me. 

BENNINGTON.  It  may  give  you  time  to  get  the 
money  or  get  the  things  back. 

UNDERWOOD.  I  can  get  them  all  back  in — in  time 
• — damn  it — it  costs  money  to  keep  up  appearances 
• — society  people  won't  buy  if  they  think  you  need 
the  money — and  I've  had  to  spend  it  like  water  to 
get  them  even  to  look  at  them — give  me  a  month. 

BENNINGTON.  They're  coming  to-morrow — I 
promised  I'd  let  you  know,  and  I  can  do  no  more. 

UNDERWOOD.    To-morrow ! 

BENNINGTON.    To-morrow ! 

UNDERWOOD.  (Pause.  He  is  visibly  agitated) 
Bennington — how  did  they  come  to — to  suspect 

BENNINGTON.  When  you  tried  to  sell  these  things 
to  old  Defries  for  one-quarter  their  value  he  rec 
ognized  where  they  came  from  and  went  right 
straight  to  the  firm — there's  a  man  outside  watching 
now. 

UNDERWOOD.    Then  it's  all  up,  eh  ?    No  chance — 

BENNINGTON.  Not  a  minute ! ! !  Well — I've  kept 
my  promise. 

UNDERWOOD.  To-morrow!  (Telephone  bell. 
TJNDERWOOD  rises,  goes  up  to  Telephone,  takes  down 
receiver  and  speaks  into  transmitter;  as  he  goes  up, 
BENNINGTON  moves  slightly  to  R.  as  if  not  wanting 
jto  overhear  conversation)  [What !  I  can't  see  him 


JHE  THIRD  DEGREE.  9 

— tell  him  I'm — (BENNINGTON  turns  toward  door  as 
if  to  go)  Don't  go,  Bennington,  it's  only  that  in 
fernal  nuisance,  Howard  Jeffries.  (Hangs  up  re 
ceiver  and  comes  down  to  previous  position  at  couch, 
takes  cigarette  out  of  box,  mechanically  lighting  it) 

BENNINGTON.  I  must  go.  .  (Looks  at  wall  over 
door  R.,  at  empty  space  under  picture  illuminator) 
I  don't  see  the  Velasquez — Valef/zquez. 

UNDERWOOD.  No — it's — it's  out — on — on  proba 
tion — I  can  account  for  everything. 

BENNINGTON.    And  the  Gobelins 

UNDERWOOD.  Everything — if  they  give  me  time — 
you  know  what  it  means,  Bennington — the  position 
I've  made  for  myself  will  be  swept  away — and — 
(Sighs)  After  all — it  doesn't  matter. 

(Enter  HOWARD  JEFFRIES  D.  L.  He  is  a  Post 
graduate  type  of  college  man — refined  but  dis 
sipated  appearance,  good-natured,  carelessly 
dressed — handsome  face  marred  by  weakness 
and  dissipation — about  25  years  of  age.  He 
has  been  drinking  a  little — UNDERWOOD  is 
obviously  annoyed.  As  he  enters,  he  takes  off 
overcoat  and  hat  and  throws  them  carelessly  on 
chair  up  c.  and  comes  then  to  chair  R.  of  table.) 

HOWARD.  The  attendant  didn't  seem  to  be  sure 
— so  I  came  up — sorry  if  I'm  butting  in 

UNDERWOOD.     (Coldly)    Glad  to  see  you. 

HOWARD.    You  don't  look  it. 

UNDERWOOD.  (Pause)  Mr.  Bennington — Mr. 
Howard  Jeffries,  junior. 

HOWARD.  Oh,  I  know  Bennington,  he's  an  old 
stuff.  (BENNINGTON  indignantly  moves  to  L.  above 
table.  HOWARD  seating  himself)  Bought  an  ele 
phant's  tusk  at  his  place  in  the  days  when  I  was 
somebody.  Nobody  now — couldn't  even  buy  an 
ivory  collar  button.  (Mixes  _  himself  a  highball) 
Do  you  remember  that  wonderful  set  of  ivory  chess 
men  the  old  man  bought  ? 


io  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

BENNINGTON.  Yes,  sir — ah!  Your  father  is  a 
fine  art  critic 

HOWARD.  Art  critic — he  can  criticize  any  old 
thing — I  don't  care  what  it  is — he  can  criticize  it — 
when  in  doubt,  criticize — is  nailed  on  father's 
escutcheon.  (Drinks)  Here's  how 

BENNINGTON.  Well — good-night,  Mr.  Jeffries — 
good-night,  Mr.  Underwood 

UNDERWOOD.  Good-night — (Starts  to  door  L.  3, 
and  exits  BENNINGTON) 

HOWARD.  (Indifferently)  Good-night.  Excuse 
my  butting  in,  but — why  so  downcast — is  that  the 
way  you  greet  a  classmate,  a  fellow  f rat  ?  ^  (UNDER 
WOOD  rises  and  crosses  down  R.)  Wait  till  you  hear 
my  hard  luck  story ;  that'll  cheer  you  up.  (Rises  and 
goes  to  L.  of  table)  First  I'll  take  a  drink.  (Mixes 
himself  another  drink)  I  need  courage,  old  man — 
I've  got  a  favor  to  ask — I  want  some  money — I  not 
only  want  it — I  need  it — (UNDERWOOD  laughs)  I 
told  you  I'd  cheer  you  up.  (Seating  himself,  glass 
in  hand)  I  don't  want  to  remind  you  of  that  little 
matter  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  bucks  you  borrowed 
from  me  two  years  ago — I  suppose  you've  forgotten 
it — but 

UNDERWOOD.    Well ! 

HOWARD.  I'm  not  reminding  you,  old  chap,  but — 
when  the  family  kicked  me  out  for  marrying  the 
finest  girl  that  ever  lived — my  father  cut  me  off  with 
a  piking  allowance  which  I  told  him  to  put  in  the 
church  plate.  I  told  him  I  preferred  independence — 
well — I've  got  my  independence,  but  I'm — I'm 
broke — (Leans  back  comfortably)  I  can't  find  any 
business  that  I'm  fitted  for  and  she  threatens  to  go 
back  to  work — I  won't  stand  for  that — (He  bows 
forward)  I  won't  be  supported  by  any  woman — 
and  I  thought  of  you — You're  a  successful  art  col 
lector — have  a  big  name — made  lots  of  money. 
'Tain't  the  two-fifty,  old  man — I  don't  want  that, 
I  want  a  couple  of  thousand — (Drinks) 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE.  n 

UNDERWOOD.  A  couple  of  thousand — (Laughs 
sarcastically  and  goes  up  c. ) 

HOWARD.  Gee,  I'm  a  hit,  ain't  I?  I  knew  I'd 
cheer  you  up.  (Drinks  again) 

UNDERWOOD.  What  are  you  doing  now  ?  (Com 
ing  down  to  him) 

HOWARD.  Nothing.  (Puts  glass  on  table)  I 
don't  seem  to  get  down  to  anything — my  ideas  won't 
stay  in  one  place — I  got  a  position  as  timekeeper,  but 
I  didn't  hold  it  down  a  week — I  kept  the  time  all 
right,  but  it  wasn't  the  right  time — they're  so  damn 
particular — (Leans  forward — mixes  himself  another 
drink) 

UNDERWOOD.  You  keep  pretty  good  time  with 
that 

HOWARD.  It's  the  one  thing  I  do  punctually  and 
perfectly.  (Fixes  another  drink}  I  can  play  golf 
and  polo  with  anybody,  but  I'll  be  damned  if  I  can 
do  anything  quite  as  well  as  I  do  this 

UNDERWOOD.  Why  don't  you  go  home  and  ask 
your  father — ?  (Going  dozvn  R.,  then  back  up  c. 
Then  down  R.  again.  All  through  scene  UNDERWOOD 
moves  about,  showing  his  own  worries,  and  his  an 
noyance  at  HOWARD) 

HOWARD.  After  being  turned  out  like  a  dog — with 
a  young  wife  on  my  hands — not  much — no — I've 
injured  their  pride — (UNDERWOOD  down  R.)  You 
know  father  married  a  second  time — loaded  me 
down  with  a  young  stepmother,  and  I  followed  suit 

UNDERWOOD.    Yes,  I  know. 

HOWARD.  She's  all  right,  but  she's  so  con 
foundedly — you  know  her — Say,  didn't  you  and  she 
— wasn't  there  some  sort  of  an  engagement  once — • 
seems  to  me  I 

UNDERWOOD.  I'd  rather  you  wouldn't  mention 
that  matter.  (Going^  up  L.  Speaking  brusquely. 
do^vn  R.  again}  Jeffries,  I'm  very  busy  now — if  you 
could  postpone— ~. 


12  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

HOWARD.  (Turning  front  and  crossing)  Under 
wood,  I'm  an  outcast — a  derelict  on  the  ocean  of  life, 
as  one  of  my  highly  respectable  uncles  wrote  me — 
and  his  grandfather  was  an  iron  puddler — ha !  My 
family  makes  me  sick — I'm  no  good  because  I  mar 
ried  the  girl — if  I'd  have  ruined  her  life  and  cast 
her  aside — I'd  still  be  a  respectable  member  of  the 
family — (Mixes  himself  a  drink) 

UNDERWOOD.  (Coming  to  him,  R.  of  table)  No, 
Howard — you  wouldn't  make  a  respectable  member 
of  any  family. 

HOWARD.    I  guess  you're  right.     (Drinks) 

UNDERWOOD.  How  does  Annie  take  your  social 
ostracism  ? 

HOWARD.  Like  a  brick — thoroughbred — all  to 
the  good — she's  one  of  the  few  women  I  know  that 
improves  on  acquaintance — she's  all  right.  She's 
all  right. 

UNDERWOOD.  (Going  down  R.)  I'm  sorry  I  ever 
introduced  you  to  her — I  never  thought  you'd  make 
such  a  fool  of  yourselt  as  to  marry — (Going  up  c. 
then  down  R.  again) 

HOWARD.  Don't  know  whether  I  made  a  fool  of 
myself  or  not — she's  got  the  makings  of  a  great 
woman — very  crude,  but  still— the  makings.  The 
only  thing  I  object  to  is,  she  insists  on  going  back 
to  work — just  as  if  I'd  permit  such  a  thing — you 
know  what  I  said  to  her  on  our  wedding  day — (Ris 
ing — glass  in  hand)  Mrs.  Howard  Jeffries,  you  are 
entering  one  of  the  oldest  families  in  America — 
nature  has  fitted  you  for  social  leadership — you  will 
be  a  petted,  pampered  member  of  that  elect — select, 
few  called  the  Knickerbocker  set — and  now,  damn 
it  all,  how  can  I  let  her  go  back  to  work?  (Pitts 
glass  on  table  and  half  sits,  half  falls  on  couch) 
If  you  let  me  have  that  two  thousand — (Lies  back 
'on  sofa) 

UNDERWOOD.  I  haven't  got  it — I'm  in  debt  up  to 
my  eyes. 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE.  13 

HOWARD.  (Looking  around)  What's  all  this? 
Bluff? 

UNDERWOOD.  (Going  up  c.)  Yes,  a  bluff — that's 
it.  Not  a  picture — not  a  vase — not  a  stick  belongs  to 
mQ— (Comes  down  R.  again)  You'll  have  to  go  to 
your  father 

HOWARD.  Not  on  your  life—  (Picks  up  glass, 
drinks,  puts  it  back  on  table) 

UNDERWOOD.    He'll  relent. 

HOWARD.  He  relent?  He?  Too  much  brains— 
too  much  up  here.  (Indicating,  heart)  Once  get 
an  idea.— (Facing  front,  putting  L.  leg  on  couch) 
Never  lets  it  go.  Roman  father!  (Gets  other  leg 
up — leans  head  on  L.  hand,  arm  over  back  of  couch — 
drowsily)  My  God— how  obstinate  that  man  is — 
seems  impossible  he  can  be  my  father.  One  idea — 
stick  to  it.  Gee— but  I've  made  a  mess  of  things, 
haven't  I? 

UNDERWOOD.  (Going  to  him)  You've  made  a 
mess  of  your  life,  but  you've  had  some  measure  of 
happiness — at  least  you  married  the  woman  you  love 
— the  woman  I  wanted,  married  someone  else — d — n 
him ! 

HOWARD.  Say,  old  man,  I  didn't  come  here  to 
hear  a  hard  luck  story.  I  came  to  tell  one.  If  you 
can't  be  cheerful — (Lying  down,  and  sleepily)  don't 
say  anything — shut  up — (Falls  asleep) 

UNDERWOOD.  Drunken  beast  that  you  are — I 
envy  you.  (  Telephone  bell  rings.  UNDERWOOD  goes 
up  to  telephone,  takes  down  receiver)  Who? 
(Pause — his  face  lights  up)  Yes — yes — I'm  in — 
(Pause)  Ask  her  to  wait.  No — hello — tell  her  to 
come  up.  (He  hangs  up  receiver,  turns  and  sees 
HOWARD,  goes  quietly  to  him  and  tries  to  rouse 
him)  Jeffries — Jeffries — go  into  my  room  like  a 
good  fellow — (Shaking  him)  Jeffries — Jeffries — 
wake  up — wake  up,  will  you?  Wake  up,  confound 
you!  (Door-bell  rings  outside  L.  3  E.  UNDERWOOD 
shakes  HOWARD  again)  Jeffries — Jeffries — (Door- 


I4  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

bell  rings  again — UNDERWOOD  raises  himself  in 
perplexity,  sees  screen — goes  quickly  up,  draws  it 
around  between  table  and  couch — completely  screen 
ing  HOWARD.  He  then  goes  up  back  of  couch  to 
door  L.  3  E.  and  exits.  After  a  momentary  pause — 
he  enters  quickly,  comes  up  to  L.  c.  Then  MRS. 
HOWARD  JEFFRIES,  SR.,  enters  quickly — crosses  to 
R.  c.  after  she  has  crossed  him.  He  goes  to  door, 
closes  it,  and  comes  quickly  to  L.  c.,  speaking  as  he 
comes)  You've  come  in  answer  to  my  note? 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  How  dare  you  write  me  such  a 
letter — what  do  you  expect  to  gain  by  this  threat  ? 

UNDERWOOD.  Sit  down,  Alicia.  (Indicating  chair 
R.  of  table) 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.    Don't  call  me  by  that  name 

UNDERWOOD.  When  you  broke  your  engagement 
with  me  and  married  old  Howard  Jeffries — you — 
you  didn't  destroy  my  love — you  can't  destroy  it. 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  I  broke  my  engagement  with 
you  because  I  found  that  you  were  deceiving  me — 
that  you  had  deceived  others — oh,  we  need  not  go 
into  that.  I  ask  you  again — what  do  you  expect  to 
gain  by  threatening  to  take  your  own  life  unless  I — 
continue  to  be  your  friend — what  do  you  mean  by 
"  your  friend  " — how  can  I  be  the  friend  of  a  man 
like  you?  You  who  are  as  incapable  of  disinter 
ested  friendship  as  you  are  of  common  honesty. 
(Turning  to  R.  a  trifle) 

UNDERWOOD.  Alicia,  for  the  sake  of  old  mem 
ories 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  (Quickly  to  him)  There  are 
no  old  memories — not  one — you  have  humiliated 
me  by  compelling  me  to  come  to  you  and  ask  you  to 
promise  me  not  to — not  to  carry  out  your  threat. 
Will  you  promise  me? 

UNDERWOOD.     I — I  don't  promise  anything 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.     But  you  must — you  must  give 
me  your  word  not  to  do  this  awful  thing. 
UNDERWOOD.     No — (Shakes  his  head) 


[THE  JHIRD  DEGREE.  15 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  You  won't — you  won't  promise 
me • 

UNDERWOOD.  If  my  life  has  no  interest  for  you 
— why  should  you  care? 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  But — you  accuse  me  of  being 
the  cause — of  driving  you  to  your  death — I — who 
have  been  your  friend  in  spite  of  your  dishonesty — 
oh — it's  despicable — ungrateful — and  above  all,  it's 
untrue 

UNDERWOOD.    My  love  for  you  is  my  excuse. 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  If  you  had  loved  me  you  would 
have  spared  me  this  indignity. 

UNDERWOOD.    Why  did  you  come  here? 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  I  was  afraid  you  meant  what  you 
said — the  shame  of  being  associated  with  a  man 
who — who — took  his  own  life — it's  horrible 

UNDERWOOD.  That's  it — you're  afraid  that 
some  scandal  may  attach  itself  to  the  name  of  the 
exclusive  Mrs.  Howard  Jeffries. 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  You  know  how  Mr.  Jeffries  has 
suffered  through  the  wretched  marriage  of  his 
only  son  with  the  daughter  of  a  saloon-keeper — you 
know  how  deeply  we  both  feel  the  disgrace — and 
yet  you  would  add 

UNDERWOOD.  (Turning  to  her)  Why  should  I 
consider  your  husband's  feelings?  He  didn't  con 
sider  mine  when  he  married  you — Mrs.  Jeffries, 
I'm  desperate — I'm  hemmed  in  on  all  sides  by 
creditors — you  know  what  your  friendship — your 
patronage  means?  If  you  desert  me  now  your 
friends  will  follow — they're  a  lot  of  sheep  led  by 
you 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  That  is  precisely  why  I  protect 
them — they  are  my  friends — they  trust  me — you 
have  borrowed  their  money — stolen  from  them — 
and  my  friendship  for  you  has  given  you  the  op 
portunity — but  now  that  I  have  found  you  out — I 
refuse  to  sacrifice  my  friends — my  self-respect — 
my  sense  of  decency.  You  take  this  means  of  com 
pelling  me — well — you've  failed — I  will  not  sane- 


16  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

tion  your  robbing  my  friends.  I  will  not  allow 
you  to  sell  them  any  more  of  your  high-priced 
rubbish — or  permit  you  to  cheat  them  at  cards. 

UNDERWOOD.  If  you  desert  me  now,  you'll  be 
sorry  till  the  day  of  your  death. 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  You  mean  you'll — you'll  kill 
yourself!  {He  does  not  reply)  Answer  me! 

UNDERWOOD.  I  mean — just  what  I  said  in  that 
letter 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  (Pause)  I  don't  believe  it — 
your  object  is  to  frighten  me — you  have  no  more 
idea  of  taking  your  own  life  than  I  have.  I  might 
have  spared  myself  the  humiliation  of  this  meet 
ing 

UNDERWOOD.     Is  that  all  you  have  to  say? 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  All — except  this — let  it  be 
thoroughly  understood  that  your  presence  at  Mr. 
Jeffries'  house  is  undesirable — and  if  we  should 
meet  you  at  the  house  of  any  of  my  friends,  I  shall 
be  compelled  to  explain  my  attitude.  (She  starts 
to  leave,  comes  back  to  him,  and  speaks  appeal-, 
ingly)  Won't  you  tell  me  that  you  didn't  mean 
what  you  said  in  your  letter?  (Pause — then  dis 
dainfully)  I  don't  believe  that  a  man  who  is 
coward  enough  to  write  a  letter  like  this  has  the 
courage  to  carry  out  his  threat — good-night — 
( Turns  and  exits  quickly,  D.  L.  3  E.  ) 

UNDERWOOD.  (Mechanically)  Good-night — (He 
pauses,  turns,  goes  slowly  but  determinedly,  as  he 
must  suggest  to  the  audience  that  he  is  immovable 
in  his  determination  to  commit  suicide,  his  whole 
attitude  one  of  despair,  up  to  door  L.  3  E.,  closes  it, 
locks  it  and  puts  key  in  his  pocket;  then  to  window 
up  c.,  lets  down  Tapestry  portieres,  then  slowly  to 
R.  ;  when  he  gets  to  table  R.  he  pauses  an  instant — 
then  goes  to  electric  switch  R.  of  door — presses  it) 

(All  lights  out  on  stage,  excepting  border  in  c. 
Glow  in  fire-place.    Strip  in  R.  2  E.    Explana- 


LTHE  [THIRD  DEGREE.  ty 

tion  of  lights  in  scene  description.  UNDER 
WOOD  opens  door  R.  2  E.  The  glow  of  the  hall 
lights  is  fully  shown.  He  exits  closing  door. 
After  his  exit  count  ninef  rather  slowly. 
Fire  pistol-shot  off  R.  2  E.  on  ninth  count.  At, 
report  of  pistol) 

QUICK  CURTAIN. 


SCENE  II:     The  'curtain  must  not  remain  rdowH 
over  20  seconds. 

SCENE: — Immediately  after  Curtain  has  fallen  on 
pistol-shot,  turn  up  the  chandelier — take  off 
glow  in  fire-place — and  raise  whites  in  3 
Border.  The  foots  and  borders  are  out. 
Strike  the  screen  from  about  the  couch — as 
soon  as  characters  are  in  position,  ring  up 

CURTAIN. 

AT  RISE: — HOWARD  JEFFRIES  is  discovered  back 
of  table  R.  c.  being  interrogated  by  CAPT. 
MALONEY  and  POLICE  OFFICER.  HOWARD  is 
back  of  table,  CAPTAIN  CLINTON  to  R.  of  table, 
close  to  it,  MALONEY  above,  HOWARD  R.  c. 
a  bit,  note-book  in  hand,  taking  down  every 
thing  he  says.  OFFICER  up  near  door  L.  3  E. 
HOWARD  is  pale  and  frightened.  CAPTAIN 
CLINTON  aggressively  persistent. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Answer  me!  Answer  me! 
You  did  it,  and  you  know  you  did. 

HOWARD.    No — I 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Well,  we  know  you  did,  eli, 
Maloney  ? 

MALONEY.    Of  course  he  did. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  These  persistent  denials  are 
useless — the  evidence  is  clear. 

HOWARD.    L— I'm  so  upset— Good  God !    JVhat'S 


[i8  JHE  [THIRD  DEGREE. 

IHe  use  of  questioning  me  and  questioning  me — I 
know  nothing — of  this 

CAPT.  CLINTON.     Why  did  you  come  here? 

HOWARD.  I  told  you — we're  old  friends — I 
came  to  borrow  money — he  owed  me  a  few  dollars 
when  we  were  at  college  together — and  I  tried  to 
get  it — I've  told  you  so  many  times — and  you  don't 
believe  me — hour  after  hour — hour  after  hour — 
question  upon  question — won't  you  please  let  me 
go — my  wife  will  be  waiting  up — and — why,  it 
must  be  morning — I'm  tired  out — tired  out — I 
want  to  go  home  and — (He  starts  to  sit  down) 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  (Sharply)  Stand  up! 
(HOWARD  rises,  wearily  and  unsteadily;  he  is  al 
most  exhausted  with  the  pitiless  grind  of  a  seven 
hour  examination)  How  much  did  you  try  to 
borrow  ? 

HOWARD.  (Wearily)  A  thousand — two  thou 
sand — I  forget — I  think  one  thousand.  I've  told 
you  so  many  times 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Did  he  say  he'd  lend  you  the 
money  ? 

HOWARD.    No,  he — he — couldn't — he — poor  chap, 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  He  refused — that  led  to  words 
—there  was  a  quarrel — and  you  shot  him. 

HOWARD.  No — no — there  was  no  quarrel — no 
words — no — I  swear  there  wasn't. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  He  was  found  on  the  floor, 
dead — in  that  room — you  were  trying  to  get  out 
of  the  house — without  being  seen — you  pretended 
you'd  been  drinking — that  door  was  locked,  how  do 
you  account  for  that? 

HOWARD.  I  didn't  lock  it,  I  swear  I  didn't.  I  fell 
asleep  on  that  sofa — when  I  woke  up — it  was  dark 
• — I  tried  to  get  out,  but  the  door  was  locked — I 
wanted  to  get — home  as  I  needed  money — I  wanted 
to  tell  my  wife  I  couldn't  get  it — she  was  going  out 
to  work  the  first  thing  in  the  morning  and  I  don't 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE.  19 

want  her  to — won't  you  believe  me,  won't  you  be 
lieve  me?  I'm  telling  you  God's  truth — on  my 
word  of  honor  I  am.  (Sinks  hopelessly  and  help 
lessly  into  chair,  burying  head  in  his  arms)  They 
won't  believe  me — they  won't  believe  me — they 
won't  believe  me !  (Momentary  pause) 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Stand  up.  (HOWARD  rises 
slowly)  The  motive  is  clear — you  came  for  money 
— were  refused — there  was  a  quarrel  and  you  did  the 
trick — Howard  Jeffries — you  shot  Robert  Under 
wood,  and  you  shot  him  with  this  pistol — (With  a 
quick  movement  he  brings  out  pistol  and  places  it 
for  HOWARD  to  see,  but  close  enough  so  that  the 
rays  of  light  fall  upon  the  shining  barrel  of  the 
revolver.  The  light  shines  on  it  so  that  it  attracts 
the  eye — HOWARD  looks  at  it — his  eyes  are  rivetted 
on  it  until  his  face  assumes  a  vacant  stare.  Scientif 
ically,  this  accomplishes  the  act  of  hypnotism  and  he 
comes  under  the  influence  of  the  will  directing  his 
will — he  is  now  completely  receptive)  You  com 
mitted  this  crime,  Howard  Jeffries — (HOWARD  gazes 
at  pistol  with  a  fixed  expression)  it's  clear  as  day 
light — eh,  Maloney  ?  You  did  it,  Jeffries — you  know 
you  did — come,  own  up — let's  have  the  truth — you 
shot  Robert  Underwood — with  this  revolver — you 
did  it  and  you  can't  deny  it — speak — Go  on — out 
with  it — out  with  it — you  shot  Robert  Underwood — 
(Momentary  pause.  HOWARD'S  eyes  are  on  pistol) 

HOWARD.  (Eyes  on  pistol,  he  repeats  mechanic 
ally)  I  shot  Robert  Underwood. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.    You  quarreled 

HOWARD.     We  quarreled. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.    You  came  here  for  money 

HOWARD.     Came  here  for  money. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.    He  refused  to  give  it  to  you  ? 

HOWARD.    He  refused  to  give  it  to  me. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.    There  was  a  quarrel? 

HOWARD.    There  was  a  quarrel. 


20  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  You  followed  him  into  that 
room. 

HOWARD.    Followed  him  into  that  room. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.    And  shot  him? 

HOWARD.    And  shot  him. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Whew!  That's  all — (HOWARD 
sinks  into  seat,  his  head  resting  on  his  arm.  Pockets 
pistol)  Gee,  he  was  a  tough  man.  (MALONEY  goes 
up  to  curtain,  draws  it  up,  letting  flood  of  daylight 
into  the  room.  Foots  and  borders  must  be  on 
dimmers  and  come  up  with  curtain  as  it  is  raised. 
Lights  full  up;  as  soon  as  MALONEY  has  raised  cur 
tains  he  comes  down,  turns  out  chandelier  and  re 
turns  up  R.  c.)  Get  that  all  down  ?  . 

(DR.  BERNSTEIN  enters  from  door  R.  2  E.,  pulling 
down  sleeves  which  have  been  up — as  if  he'd 
been  washing  his  hands.) 

MALONEY.    Yes,  Captain. 

DR.  BERNSTEIN.  Some  smoke  and  a  great  many 
powder  marks ;  must  have  been  pretty  close  range, 
Captain. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  It's  all  right,  we've  got  him  to 
rights.  (He  crosses  to  L.,  toward  overcoat  and  hat, 
and  starts  putting  them  on  when  he  gets  them)  By 
Gum!  It's  daylight.  (With  a  yawn)  It's  taken 
seven  hours  to  get  it  out  of  him.  (To  OFFICER — 
at  door)  Is  his  wife  downstairs? 

OFFICER.    Yes,  Captain. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.    Does  she  know? 

OFFICER.    Yes,  Captain. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.    Who  told  her? 

OFFICER.    Some  newspaper  men. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Well — let  her  come  in,  she  may 
tell  us  something. 

(OFFICER  exits,  door  L.  3  E.) 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE.  21 

DR.  BERNSTEIN.  (Has  been  standing  thought 
fully  down  R.)  I'm  not  so  sure,  Captain,  that  Un 
derwood  didn't  do  this  himself. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Well  I  am;  this  man  has  just 
confessed. 

(OFFICER  enters  in  advance  of  ANNIE  JEFFRIES, 
who  enters  a  second  after  him.  DR.  BERNSTEIN 
looks  sharply  at  HOWARD  and  goes  up  to  him.) 

OFFICER.     Sit  there  until  you're  wanted,  please. 

(ANNIE  starts  over,  anxious,  to  HOWARD,  MALONEY 
stops  her  with  a  gesture;  she  sits  fearfully  in 
chair ',  up  c.) 

DR.  BERNSTEIN.  Confessed,  eh?  (He  lifts  up 
HOWARD'S  head,  opens  first  one  eye  then  the  other, 
looking  intently  at  pupils,  then  drops  head,  takes  his 
wrist  and  looking  at  his  watch,  takes  his  pulse) 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Confessed  in  the  presence  of 
three  witnesses,  eh,  Sergeant?  It  took  us  seven 
hours  to  get  him  to  own  up. 

DR.  BERNSTEIN.  (Taking  pulse  of  HOWARD)  I 
don't  approve  of  these  all-night  examination  and 
third-degree  mental  torture  processes — when  a  man 
is  tired  and  nervous  his  brain  gets  benumbed. 
(After  lifting  him  up  to  sitting  position  he  steps 
back,  intently  regarding  HOWARD) 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Doctor — theories  may  make  a 
hit  with  college  students  and  amateur  professors, 
but  they  don't  go  with  us — you  can't  make  a  man 
say  "yes" — when  he  wants  to  say  "no" — (CAPT. 
CLINTON  crossing  to  HOWARD)  We've  got  him,  all 
right — I  tell  you,  Doctor,  no  newspaper  can  tell  me 
that  my  precinct  ain't  cleaned  up — I  catch  'em  with 
the  goods  when  I  go  after  'em 

DR.  BERNSTEIN.  I  know  your  reputation,  Cap 
tain — (Crosses  to  upper  end  of  couch  L.  and  puts 
on  overcoat  and  hat) 

CAPT.  CLINTON.    I'm  after  results — none  of  them 


22  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

Psyche  theories  for  mine — (To  OFFICER)  Did  you 
phone  to  his  father? 

OFFICER.    He's  on  his  way  down  now,  Captain. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Oh,  all  right.  (Slapping 
HOWARD  on  shoulder)  Hey,  Jeffries,  come  on,  wake 
up ;  come  on,  stand  up.  (He  crosses  down  R.  at  the 
same  time  MALONEY  crosses  down  to  HOWARD'S  R. 
OFFICER  to  his  L.  and  raises  him  to  his  feet. 
As  OFFICER  crosses  ANNIE  rises.  The  OFFICER  gets 
his  hat  from  piano — puts  it  on  his  head;  at  the  same 
time  MALONEY  gets  his  overcoat  from  piano,  where 
it  has  been  placed  during  dark  change,  and  he  and 
the  OFFICER  help  him  into  it,  after  which  MALONEY 
takes  out  pair  of  nippers,  clasps  them  around 
HOWARD'S  right  wrist.  All  this  through  CAPTAIN'S 
speech)  Brace  up,  now.  (CAPT.  CLINTON  up  to 
MALONEY)  Take  him  over  to  the  station,  write  out 
that  confession  and  get  him  to  sign  it  before  break 
fast,  I'll  be  right  over. 

MALONEY.    All  right,  Captain. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Is  there  an  officer  in  there, 
Doctor? 

DR.  BERNSTEIN.  (His  eye  fixed  intently  on 
HOWARD)  Yes — he'll  stay  till  the  coroner  comes — 
I  suppose — well,  I'll  make  out  my  report.  Good- 
day — Captain.  (Exits,  door  L.  3  E.) 

CAPT.  CLINTON.    Take  him  over. 

MALONEY.    All  right,  Captain. 

(They  take  HOWARD  off,  door  L.  3  E.    Just  as  they 
cross  ANNIE,  she  follows  them.) 

ANNIE.    Howard ! 

HOWARD.  Annie,  something  happened  with  Un 
derwood.  (This  as  he  is  going  out) 

ANNIE.  (Starting  after  him)  May  I  speak  to 
him,  sir? 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Stop — (ANNIE  stops  and  looks 
at  him)  Just  one  moment,  Mrs.  Jeffries — you  can 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE.  23 

see  him  over  at  the  station  later  on — I'd  like  to  ask 
you  a  few  questions;  sit  down.  (ANNIE  comes 
down  to  chair  R.  of  table  and  sits)  Mrs.  Jeffries, 
did  you  ever  hear  your  husband  threaten  Robert 
Underwood  ? 

ANNIE.    You've  no  right  to  ask  me  that  question. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  You  may  help  the  authorities 
to— to 

ANNIE.  To  convict  my  husband — thank  you — I 
understand  my  position. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  You  can't  do  him  very  much 
harm.  He  confessed  to  the  shooting. 

ANNIE.    I  don't  believe  it. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Of  course  not — didn't  expect 
you  to — did  you  know  Mr.  Underwood  ? 

ANNIE.    Yes — he  introduced  me  to  my  husband. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.    Where? 

ANNIE.    New  Haven,  Connecticut. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Up  at  college,  eh?  Yes,  I  re 
member  the  affair — I  sent  a  man  to  New  Haven  to 
look  up  your  record  for  his  father. 

ANNIE.  Well,  you  found  nothing  against  me — • 
did  you? 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  No,  but  your  father's  record 
wasn't  over-clean. 

ANNIE.    Can  I  help  that? 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  How  long  have  you  known  Mr. 
Underwood  ? 

ANNIE.  I  met  him  once  or  twice  up  in  New 
Haven,  but  I've  never  seen  him  since  my  marriage 
to  Mr.  Jeffries. 

(MALONEY  enters,  door  L.  3  E.  CAPT.  CLINTON 
beckons  to  him,  and  goes  to  meet  him.  They 
whisper  a  moment,  MALONEY  smiles  signifi 
cantly  and  exits  door  L.  3  E.-  as  CAPT.  CLINTON 
comes  down  again.) 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Your  husband  and  he  were  not 
very  good  friends  after  your  marriage,  eh? 


•24  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

ANNIE.  Not  very — (Sees  she  has  made  a  mis- 
'take) 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Not  very  good  friends,  eh  ?  In 
fact  your  husband  didn't  like  him — did  he  ? 

ANNIE.  He  didn't  like  him  well  enough  to  run 
after  him. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  J/Vas  your  husband  jealous  of 
Underwood  ? 

(ANNIE  rises  indignantly.) 

ANNIE.  Jealous!  What  right  have  you  to  ask 
me  that?  I  refuse  to  answer  any  more  questions. 
(Crosses  down  L.  a  step  or  two) 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Now  you  can  help  him,  Mrs. 
Jeffries — by  helping  us.  Did  you  call  here  last 
night  to  see  Mr.  Underwood  ? 

ANNIE.    No. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.    Sure? 

ANNIE.    Positive. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  There  was  a  woman  called 
to  see  him  last  night — and  I  thought  perhaps — 
(MALONEY  enters  with  boy  of  eighteen  in  the  uni 
form  of  an  elevator  attendant.  MALONEY  points  to 
ANNIE,  the  boy  looks  at  her  and  crosses,  MALONEY 
to  c.,  looking  at  her  intently.  Pause)  Well? 

BOY.  (Shakes  his  head)  Don't  think  so — no,  sir 
« — it's  not  the  same  lady — leastways  I — no— 

CAPT.  CLINTON.    Sure? 

BOY.    I — think  so. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Do  you  remember  the  name  she 
gave  you? 

BOY.  No,  sir.  I've  been  trying  to  think  of  it — 
ever  since  you  asked  me. 

ANNIE.  Well,  if  you  have  no  further  use  for  me 
— I — I — think  I'll  go — (Starts  up  between  table  and 
couch) 

CAPT.  CLINTON.    Just  one  moment,  Mrs.  Jeffries. 


LTHE  THIRD  DEGREE.  25 

(She  stops  and,  as  the  boy  speaks,  looks  at  him 
wonderingly  and  comes  down  again.) 

BOY.  That's  it— that's  it,  Mrs.  Jeffries— that  was 
the  name  she  gave. 

ANNIE.    I  was  never  here  before  in  my  life. 

BOY.  (Looks  at  her — shakes  his  head)  No,  not 
you.  She's  not  the  one — I  guess  I'm  mistaken,  sir 

CAPT.  CLINTON.    Sure? 

BOY.    Yes,  sir — I — I — sure • 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  (Giving  him  a  push)  That's 
all  right.  We'll  find  out.  (BoY  exits,  followed  by 
MALONEY,  door  L.  3  E.)  It  will  be  rather  a  pity  if  it 
wasn't  you  who  called  on  Underwood  last  night. 

ANNIE.    Why  ? 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Yes — a  woman  always  gets  the 
jury  mixed  up — (Smiling  significantly)  Nothin' 
rouses  sympathy  for  the  accused  like  a  pretty  face. 
Now  if  they  quarreled  about  you — your  husband 
would  stand  some  chance — you'd  better  tell  me  the 
truth,  Mrs.  Jeffries — and  I  can  advise  you  who  to 
goto — 

ANNIE.  Thanks,  I'm  going  to  the  best  lawyer  I 
can  get,  not  one  of  those  court  room  politicians — 
recommended  by  a  political  police  captain.  I'm 
going  to  Richard  Brewster— he's  the  man — if  my 
father  had  had  him,  instead  of  a  legal  shark,  he'd 
never  have  been  railroaded  to  jail,  and,  he'd  be  alive 
to-day. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Oh — Brewster's  a  constitution 
lawyer — one  of  those  international  fellows — he 
don't  know  nothing 

ANNIE.  He's  Howard's  father's  lawyer  and  he's 
the  one  I  want.  Howard's  folks  have  got  to  come 
to  the  rescue — they've  got  to  stand  by  him.  (Going 
up  R.  c.)  They've  got  to — they've  got  to 

(MALONEY  enters,  followed  by  HOWARD  JEFFRIES, 


26  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

SR.,  who  comes  to  L.  c.;  he  is  in  overcoat,  silk 
hat  and  gloves,  but  does  not  remove  his  hat  on 
entering.) 

MALONEY.  Captain,  this  is  Mr.  Howard  Jeffries, 
Sr.  I've  told  him  the  facts. 

(ANNIE  looks  at  him  intently  and  anxiously. 
JEFFRIES  crosses  to  L.  c.  and  MALONEY  exits, 
door  L.  3  E.) 

CAPT.  CLINTON.    How  do  you  do,  sir? 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  (Business,  L.  c.,  in  a  dignified 
manner)  I  hear  that  my — my  son — has — (Pause) 
has  confessed  to  the — the  shooting 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  (R.  c.)  Yes,  sir — it's  a  bad 
business — he  says  he  came  here  for  money — there 
was  a  quarrel — presumably  about  money,  but  I 
think  it  was  over  a  woman — anyway — the  shooting 
took  place  after 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  Please  don't  tell  me  the  terrible 
details — I  came  here  before  I  realized  that  I  should 
not  have  come.  The  suddenness  of  the  message 
caught  me  unawares — the  young  man  who  has  in 
herited  my  name  has  chosen  his  own  path  in  life — 
I  am  grieved  to  say  his  conduct  and  his  expulsion 
from  college — and  his  marriage — have  completely 
separated  him  from  his  family  and — I  have  quite 
made  up  my  mind  that  in  no  way  or  manner  can  we 
become  identified  with  any  steps  he  may  take  to 
escape  the  penalty  of  his  mad  act. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Well,  you're  his  father  and  I 
thought  I'd  let  you  know,  sir. 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  Yes — I  am  his  father,  and  I  sup 
pose  under  the  circumstances  I  ought  to  feel  thank 
ful  to  you,  and  I  do — thank  you  very  much — but — 
please  do  not  mention  the  fact  of  my  presence  to 
any  of  the  newspaper  men  downstairs — they  may 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE.  27; 

think  that  I  am  palliating  or  condoning — his  con 
duct. 

ANNIE.  (Who  has  been  watching  him  intently 
since  hearing  his  name,  comes  down  to  c.  and  speaks 
deferentially  to  him)  Mr.  Jeffries,  may  I  speak? 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  (Turning  to  her  and  politely  re 
moving  hat)  I  beg  your  pardon. 

ANNIE.    May — I — speak  to  you 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  (Hesitatingly)  Certainly  I — er — 
I — but — (Looks  at  CAPT.  CLINTON  enquiringly) 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  It's  the  young  woman  who 
married  your 

ANNIE.  (Cuts  him  short)  Thanks — I  don't  care 
to  have  my  first  introduction  to  my  father-in-law 
come  from  the  police — I  am  your  son's  wife,  Mr. 
Jeffries 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  Madam,  I  have  no  son — and  I 
don't  recognize — (CAPT.  CLINTON  goes  up  R.  c., 
looks  at  watch)  Please  don't  go,  Captain  Clinton. 
I  have  nothing  to  say  to  this  young  woman — noth 
ing  whatever 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Excuse  me,  I  must.  (Exits, 
door  L.  3  E.) 

ANNIE.    But  I  want  to  speak  to  you,  sir 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  I  repeat — I  cannot  see  you — 
(Turning  away  from  her) 

ANNIE.  (Advancing  a  step  or  two  toward  him) 
Mr.  Jeffries — please  don't  refuse  to  hear  me — please 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  I  do  not  think  there  is  any  sub 
ject  which  can  be  of  mutual  interest 

ANNIE.  Oh,  yes,  there  is — flesh  and  blood  is  of 
mutual  interest  and  your  son  is  yours  whether  you 
cast  him  off  or  not — you've  got  to  hear  me  I'm — not 
cast  him  off  or  not — you've  got  to  hear  me — I'm — 
not  asking  anything  for  myself — it's  for  him — your 
son — he's  in  trouble — I  only  want  to  ask  you — not  to 
desert  your  son  at  such  a  time — whatever  he  may 
have  done  to  deserve  your  anger — don't — don't  deal 


28  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

him  such  a  blow — you  can't  realize  what  it  means 
at  a  critical  moment  like  this.  Even  if  you  only 
pretend  to  be  friendly  with  him — you  don't  need  to 
really  be  friends  with  him,  but  don't  you  see  what 
the  effect  will  be  if  you — his  father,  publicly  refuse 
his  support — everybody  will  say  the  boy  is  no  good 
— he  can't  be  any  good  or  his  father  wouldn't  go 
back  on  him — they'll  say — you  know  what  the  world 
is — it  will  condemn  him  because  you  condemn  him 
— they  won't  even  give  him  a  hearing — Oh,  don't, 
for  God's  sake — don't  go  back  on  him  now 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  Of  course  you  realize  that  you, 
above  all  others,  are  responsible  for  his  present  posi 
tion. 

ANNIE.  Responsible?  Well — all  right — I'm  re 
sponsible — but  don't  go  back  on  him 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  I  could  have  forgiven  him  every 
thing — everything  but — (Hesitates) 

ANNIE.  But  me — I  know  it — don't  you  suppose 
I  feel  it  too — and  don't  you  suppose  it  hurts  ? 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  Forgive  me  for  speaking  plainly 
— but  this  marriage  with  such  a  woman  as  you  has 
made  it  impossible  to  even  consider  the  question  of 
reconciliation. 

ANNIE.  Such  a  woman  as  me?  That's  pretty 
plain — but  you'll  have  to  speak  more  plainly — what 
do  you  mean  when  you  say  such  a  woman  as  me — 
what  have  I  done?  I  worked  in  a  factory  when  I 
was  nine  years  old — and  I've  earned  my  living 
honestly  ever  since — I  was  waiting  table  in  a  res 
taurant  when  I  met  your  son,  but  there's  nothing 
against  me — nothing  disgraceful,  I  mean.  I  know 
I'm  not  educated — I'm  not  a  lady — but — never  mind 
me — I'm  not  asking  for  anything — what  are  you 
going  to  do  for  him  ?  He  must  have  the  best  lawyer 
that  money  will  buy — your  lawyer,  Mr.  Brewster  is 
the  man — Howard  spoke  of  him  once 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  I  repeat — my  son's  marriage  with 
the  daughter  of  a  man  who  died  in  prison 

ANNIE.   JVell,  don't  hold  it  up  against  Howard—* 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE.  29 

he  didn't  know  it — when  he  married — he  never 
would  have  known  it  but  for  the  detectives  employed 
by  you  to  dig  up  my  family  history — and  the  news 
papers  did  the  rest — God !  That  made  fine  reading 
for  the  public — but  it  finished  my  career,  killed  my 
chances,  all  right. 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  (Crossing  to  R.,  keeps  his  back 
to  her)  The  daughter  of  a  convict 

ANNIE.  (Coming  over  to  R.  c.)  He  was  a  good 
man  at  that.  But  he  refused  to  pay  police  black 
mail  and  he  was  railroaded  to  prison  for  hiding  a 
friend  who'd  committed  a  crime.  But  that's  for 
gotten  now 

MR.  JEFFRIES.    Forgotten ! 

ANNIE.  But  he  was  unfortunate — won't  you  be 
lieve  that,  Mr.  Jeffries — why,  Billy  Sands'  hand  was 
always  in  his  pocket.  He'd  give  away  the  last  dol 
lar  he  had  to  a  friend.  I  wish  to  God  he  was  alive 
now — I  wouldn't  have  to  make  this  fight  alone — I 
wouldn't  have  to  ask  you  to  help  us. 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  (Turning  away  from  her)  You 
don't  seem  to  understand  that  my  son's  actions  have 
completely  cut  him  off  from  his  family — it's  as  if 
he  were  dead 

ANNIE.  (Coming  to  him  a  step  or  two)  I  know 
— I  know,  but — it  seems  so  hard.  He's  such  a  good 
boy  at  heart,  Mr.  Jeffries — and  he's  been  so  good  to 
me — ah,  if  you  only  knew  how  hard  he's  tried  to 
work — I'm  sure  you'd  change  your  opinion  of  him — 
lately,  of  course,  he  drank  a  little  because  he  was 
disappointed  in  not  getting  anything  to  do — he's 
only  a  boy — Mr.  Jeffries — that's  all  he  is — only  a 
boy. 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  And  you  took  advantage  of  the 
fact  and  married  him 

ANNIE.  Yes — I  know  it — I  did  wrong — I  own 
up — I  did  wrong — but  I — I — love  him,  Mr.  Jeffries 
— believe  me  or  not — I  love  him — it's  my  only  ex 
cuse — he  was  going  the  pace  when  I  met  him,  and 
I  thought  I  could  take  care  of  him — he  needed  some- 


30  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

one  and — he's  only  too  easily  influenced.  (Pause) 
Well — I — I  just  loved  him — because  I  felt  sorry  for 
him — I  was  strong  and  I  thought  I  could  protect 
him ;  but  now,  this  has  happened — and  I  can't  pro 
tect  him — it's  too  much  for  me — I  can't  make  this 
fight  alone — won't  you  help  me,  Mr.  Jeffries? 
Won't  you  help  me  ? 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  (Turning  squarely  to  her)  Will 
you  consent  to  divorce  if  I  agree  to  help  him? 

ANNIE.  (Non-plussed — pause)  A  divorce — why 
— yes — if  it  will  be  any  help  to  him — yes — anything. 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  You  will  leave  this  country  and 
go  abroad  and  live  ? 

ANNIE.    I'd  rather  live  here  if  you  don't  mind. 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  You  will  leave  America  never  to 
return,  is  that  understood? 

ANNIE.  (Heartbroken  at  the  hardness  of  the 
conditions — crying)  Yes,  sir — (Crossing  to  L.) 
Yes,  sir — (Turns  and,  very  determinedly)  And 
now  what  are  you  going  to  do  for  him  ? 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  (Turning  aivay  from  her)  I 
don't  know — I  shall  consider  the  matter  carefully 

ANNIE.  (Coming  nearer  to  him)  Yes — but  I 
want  to  know — I  want  to  consider  that  matter  care 
fully,  too 

MR.  JEFFRIES.     (Turning  to  her)    You? 

ANNIE.  Yes,  sir — I'm  paying  for  this  with  all  I 
have — and  I  want  to  know — just  what  you're  going 
to  give  him  for  it. 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  I  shall  furnish  the  money  for  the 
employment  of  such  legal  talent — as  may  be  neces 
sary — but  it  must  not  be  known — I  cannot  allow  it 
to  be  known  that  I  am  supporting  him 

ANNIE.  Must  not  be  known?  You  mean  you 
won't  stand  by  him — you'll  only  just  pay  for  the 
lawyer. 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  This  is  all  I  can  promise.  (Turns 
away  from  ANNIE — his  back  to  her) 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE.  31 

ANNIE.  But  I  want  you  to  come  forward  and 
publicly  declare  your  belief  in  your  son's  innocence. 
I  want  you  to  put  your  arms  around  him  and  say  to 
the  world — "  my  boy  is  innocent — I  know  it — and 
I'm  going  to  stand  by  him."  And  you  won't  even 
do  that?  So  his  family  must  desert  him  and  his 
wife  must  leave  him.  Except  for  a  few  profes 
sional  talkers,  the  poor  boy  must  stand  absolutely 
alone  in  the  world  and  face  a  trial  for  his — life — is 
that  your  idea  ?  Well — it  isn't  mine,  Mr.  Jeffries — 
I  won't  consent  to  a  divorce — I  won't  leave  America 
— as  for  his  defense — I'll  find  someone — I'll  go  to 
Mr.  Brewster  myself  and  if  he  refuses — I'll  go  to 
someone  else.  There  must  be  some  good,  noble- 
hearted  lawyer  in  this  big  city  who'll  take  up  his 
case.  You  needn't  trouble  yourself  any  more,  Mr. 
Jeffries — we  shan't  need  your  help.  Thank  you 
very  much  for  the  interview — it  was  very  kind  of 
you  to  listen  so  patiently — good-morning,  sir. 
(Exits  quickly,  door  L.  3  E.) 

QUICK  CURTAIN. 


32  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 


ACT  II. 


SCENT: — The  law  library  of  RICHARD  BREWSTER. 
It  is  a  semi-circular  set  in  three,  with  doors  R. 
and  L.,  and  window  in  c.  The  walls  are  heavy 
corniced  bookcases  about  10  feet  high  and 
about  12  to  1 6  inches  from  wall,  whose  shelves 
are  filled  with  law  books.  The  walls  above  the 
cornices  are  dead  white,  and  against  them  hang 
the  full  bench  of  the  U.  S.  Supreme  Court  at 
Washington.  Large  black  and  white  Portraits 
in  black  frames  of  CHIEF  JUSTICES  WAITE  and 
FULLER,  WEBSTER,  CLAY,  ex-Presidents  LIN 
COLN  and  McKiNLEY.  The  walls  are  heavily 
morticed  at  the  ceiling.  The  floor  is  hard  wood 
covered  in  the  c.  by  a  rich  green  rug.  In  the  c. 
a  foot  assembly  table  of  heavy  quartered  oak. 
A  large  leather  office  chair  R.  of  it.  Other 
chairs — Saddle  seat  office  chairs — are  back  of 
it,  L.  of  it  and  front  of  it;  another  chair  is  down 
R.  On  the  table  are  10  to  14  law  books.  Brass 
inkwell;  and  pens  and  leadpencils,  some  pads  of 
writing  paper,  legal  caps  and  2  smaller  pads  for 
in  c.  An  electric  push-button  on  L.  side  of  win- 
memoranda.  An  office  electric  chandelier  hangs 
dow  and  on  L.  side  of  door. 


AT  RISE: — BREWSTER  is  discovered  reading  a  law 
book  and  making  notes  on  a  piece  of  paper. 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE.  33 

A  momentary  pause  when  MR.  JONES,  his  con 
fidential  clerk,  enters  R.  BREWSTER  looks  up  at 
him. 

BREWSTER.    Well ! 

JONES.    She's  here,  sir 

BREWSTER.    What !    Again  ? 

JONES.    Yes,  sir 

BREWSTER.  Well,  tell  her  she  must  go — ( JONES 
makes  movement  to  go)  No,  don't  do  that — tell 
her  I  can't  see  her 

JONES.    I  told  her  that,  sir 

BREWSTER.  Tell  her  I'm  going  over  the  author 
ities  in  an  important  case 

JONES.  I  told  her  that  yesterday — and  she  waited 
three  hours 

BREWSTER.  Well,  say  it  again — we  mustn't  allow 
her  to  outdo  us  in  patience — er — be  as  pleasant  as 
you  can,  Mr.  Jones — she's  in  a  very  painful  posi 
tion,  and  I  don't  want  to  hurt  her  feelings — but  she 
mustn't  dog  my  footsteps,  day  after  day — she  really 
mustn't 

JONES.  I  have  already  told  her  that,  sir,  and  she 
said  that  you  were  worth  all  the  trouble  she  might 
take  to  get  you. 

BREWSTER.  Well,  I'm  not — you  can  mention  that 
—run  me  down — tell  her  I'm  an  old  fool. 

JONES.    I  did  mention  that,  sir. 

BREWSTER.  Tell  it  to  her  again,  but  for  goodness* 
sake  get  rid  of  her 

JONES.  Will  you  see  Mrs.  Howard  Jeffries, 
Senior,  sir? 

BREWSTER.  Mrs.  Jeffries,  Senior?  Yes,  of 
course.  Show  her  in  here  (Closes  book  and  rises, 
throwing  book  on  table  and  stands  awaiting  her. 
JONES  goes  to  door;  opens  it) 

JONES.    Come  in,  Madam. 


34  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

(MRS.  HOWARD  JEFFRIES,  SR.,  enters  door  R.  3  E.) 

BREWSTER.  (Advancing  a  step  and  extending 
hand,  which  she  takes)  Oh,  how  do  you  do,  Mrs. 
Jeffries? 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  Good-morning,  Mr.  Brewster;  is 
Mr.  Jeffries  here? 

BREWSTER.  Not  yet.  This  is  an  unexpected 
pleasure;  won't  you  sit  down?  (He  invites  her  to 
sit  in  chair  front  of  table.  She  crosses  front  of 
table  to  chair)  I  think  it's  the  first  time  you  have 
ever  graced  my  offices  with  your  presence. 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.    How  quiet  it  is  here. 

BREWSTER.  That  is  why  I  prefer  the  study  to 
my  private  office. 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  I  can  scarcely  believe  that  I'm 
in  the  heart  of  the  busy  crowded  city.  (She  sits  in 
chair  front  of  table)  These  are  dreadful  times. 
Mr.  Jeffries  is  frightfully  upset. 

BREWSTER.  I  judge  so  from  his  telephone  mes 
sage  last  night.  (He  sits  R.  of  T.)  Well,  what's 
happened  now? 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  Did  you  know  that  Howard's 
wife  was  going  on  the  stage? 

BREWSTER.    Hum!     (With  a  look  at  door  R.) 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  The  name  of  Mrs.  Howard  Jef 
fries — my  name — paraded  before  the  public — at  a 
time  when  everything  should  be  done  to  keep  it 
out  of  the  papers — this  girl  is  going  to  flaunt  herself 
on  the  stage — what  is  she  like?  You've  seen  her, 
of  course — 

BREWSTER.  Seen  her — I've  seen  no  one  else  for 
the  last  month — she  comes  every  day — regularly — 
she  literally  compels  me  to  see  her,  and  refuses  to 
go  till  I've  told  her  I  can't  see  her,  and  that  I 
haven't  changed  my  decision  about  taking  her  case — 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  This  girl  has  aroused  your 
sympathy — 

BREWSTER.      No,    my    curiosity — she's    a    very 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE.  35 

peculiar  girl,  a  creature  of  impulse  and  instinct. 
Her  childhood  was  a  very  sad  one,  married  only  a 
few  months  and  her  young  husband  in  prison,  and 
what  is  worse  than  all,  she  believes  herself  to  be  in 
some  measure  responsible  for  his  misfortune.  But 
apart  from  that,  her  case  interests  me  from  a 
purely  professional  point  of  view,  aside  from  its 
personal  interest,  for  in  spite  of  Howard's  con 
fession,  I  can't  believe  me  committed  that  crime. 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  Neither  could  I — if  he  hadn't 
confessed.  Do  you  know,  I'd  like  to  do  some 
thing  for  this  girl — will  you  give  her  some  money 
if  I ? 

BREWSTER.  She  won't  take  it — I  tried  it — she 
wants  me  to  defend  her  husband — I  tried  to  bribe 
her  to  go  to  some  other  lawyer  but  it  wouldn't 
work — queer,  isn't  it — she  has  a  notion  that  I'm 
the  only  one  who  can  successfully  defend  Howard 
— it's  very  flattering,  but  most  awkward. 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  (Rising  and  going  down  L.  a  bit) 
I  think  this  girl  ought  to  be  made  to  realize  how 
unhappy  she  is  making  us  all.  (Coming  back  to 
back  of  chair  front  of  table)  I  feel  we  ought  to 
do  something.  Try  and  persuade  Mr.  Jeffries  to 
let  me  see  this  girl — you  are  his  friend  as  well 
as  his  legal  adviser 

BREWSTER.  He  is  a  very  old  friend,  Mrs.  Jeffries, 
but  he  is  my  client,  and  I  can't  disregard  his  wishes 
entirely. 

[(Enter  JONES  ushering  in  HOWARD  JEFFRIES,  SR. 
BREWSTER  rises  and  goes  R.  a  step  and  faces 
him — MRS.  JEFFRIES  goes  to  chair  L.  of  table 
and  sits.  JONES  exits.  JEFFRIES  comes  to  R.  c.) 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  Brewster — what's  that  woman 
doing  out  there  again? — it's  not  the  first  time  I've 
met  her  in  this  office 

BREWSTER,    No,  and  I'm  afraid  it  won't  be  the 


36  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

last.  Sit  down.  (Crosses  around  to  R.  side  of  arm 
chair  and,  as  JEFFRIES  crosses  and  sits,  gets  back 
of  table.) 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.    Is  she  out  there — now? 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  What  right  has  she  to  come  here  ? 
LWhat's  her  object? 

BREWSTER.    The  same  as  usual 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  But  you  told  her  it  was  impos 
sible. 

BREWSTER.  That  makes  no  difference — she  comes 
just  the  same — what  am  I  to  do  if  she  insists  on 
coming?  We  can't  have  her  arrested — she  doesn't 
break  the  furniture  or  beat  the  office  boy — she 
simply  sits  and  waits 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  Have  you  told  her — that  I  object 
to  her  coming  here? 

BREWSTER.  I  have — and  she  has  overruled  your 
objection — you  know  we  can't  use  force 

MR.  JEFFRIES.    Moral  force — yes 

BREWSTER.    What  do  you  mean  by  moral  force? 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  I — I — moral  force  is  moral 
force — per — per — persuasion — I — I — Good  God — 
I'm  prostrated. 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.    Perhaps  if  I — see  her. 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  Not  for  worlds — I  can't  subject 
you  to — to — contact  with  this  impossible  crea 
ture 

BREWSTER.  Oh,  come,  she's  not  as  bad  as  all 
that. 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  I'm  sure  she  isn't — she  must  be 
amenable  to  reason 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  Reason — how  can  you  expect 
reason  from  a  woman  who — hounds  us — dogs  our 
footsteps — tries  to  compel  us  to — to — take  her 
up— 

BREWSTER  I  think  you  do  her  an  injustice,  Mr. 
Jeffries — she  comes  every  day  in  the  hope  that  your 
feelings  toward  her  husband  have  changed,  and  also 
to  give  color  to  the  general  belief  that  his  father's 


LTHE  THIRD  DEGREE.  37 

lawyers  are  championing  his  cause.  She  was  honest 
enought  to  tell  me  so.  You  know  her  movements 
are  pretty  well  described  by  the  papers,  and  she  takes 
good  care  to  make  them  think  she  comes  here  to 
discuss  her  husband's  defense  with  me — She's  a 
very  bright  girl 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  Her  movements  are  not  described 
by  the  papers  that  I  read — if  they  were  I  should 
refuse  to  read  them — well — what  can  we  do — this 
woman  is  going  on  the  stage  to  be  exhibited  all 
over  the  country,  and  she  proposes  to  use  the  family 
name.  (Turning  to  him  impatiently)  Well? 

BREWSTER.  Well!  There's  nothing  to  prevent 
her.  (Turns  and  goes  L.  a  step  or  two.) 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  There  must  be.  (Turning  to  him) 
Good  God!  Brewster,  surely  you  can  obtain  an 
injunction  restraining  her  from  using  the  family 
name 

BREWSTER.  (Coming  back  to  him)  The  family 
name  is  her  name  now. 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  You  must  do  something — what  do 
you  advise? 

BREWSTER.    I  advise  patience 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  Mrs.  Jeffries  advised  that — I 
advised  it  myself — anyone  can  advise  patience — 
but  that's  not  doing  anything — (Showing  extreme 
impatience  and  striking  his  cane  on  the  floor)  I 
want  something  done 

BREWSTER.  Hush — don't  lose  your  temper — I'll 
do  what  I  can,  but  there  is  nothing  to  be  done,  on 
the  lines  that  you  are  working — all  I  can  do  is  to 
remain  loyal  to  you,  though  it  goes  against  the 
grain — I  feel  that  you  are  wrong  to 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  I'm  right — I'm  right — Brewster — 
(Rising)  I'm  right — and  you  know  it,  but  you 
won't  admit  it. 

BREWSTER.  Well,  I  won't  argue  the  matter  with 
you — you  refuse  to  be  advised  by  me,  and— — - 


38  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  (Leans  slightly  over  table)  What 
is  your  advice? 

BREWSTER.    You  know  what  my  feelings  are. 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  (Straightening  up  haughtily) 
And  you  know  what  mine  are — I  refuse  to  be  en 
gulfed  in  this  wave  of  hysterical  sympathy  with 
criminals — I  will  not  be  stamped  with  the  same 
hall-mark  as  the  man  who  takes  the  life  of  his  fellow 
being — though  that  man  is  my  son — I  will  not  set 
the  seal  of  approval  on  crime — by  defending  it 

BREWSTER.  Then,  sir,  you  must  expect  exactly 
what  is  happening — this  girl — whatever  she  may  be 
— is  devoted  to  your  son  and  she'll  go  to  any  ex 
treme  to  help  him — even  to  selling  her  name  for 
money  to  pay  for  his  defense — sell  her  name — why 
she'd  sell  her  very  soul  to  save  him 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  It's  a  matter  of  principle — with 
me — her  devotion  is  not  the  question — (He  sits) 
the  sentimentality  of  the  case  doesn't  appeal  to  me 
— my  instructions  are  for  you  to  get  rid  of  her  at 
any  price 

BREWSTER.  Except  the  price  she  asks — (Turns 
and  goes  up  laughingly,  goes  up  to  step-ladder  by 
bookcase,  turns  and  sits)  You  will  find  devotion  is 
a  strong  motive-power,  Mr.  Jeffries,  and  it  will 
move  in  spite  of  the  barriers  we  put  in  its  way. 

MR.  JEFFRIES.    Oh,  don't  throw  platitudes  at  me. 

BREWSTER.  Well,  it  may  be  a  platitude,  but  it's 
nevertheless  a  fact. 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  (Rising)  I  will  not  endorse  a 
self-confessed  criminal ;  please  let  that  be  final. 

BREWSTER.  (Coming  down  to  him)  You  don't 
doubt  my  loyality  do  you? 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  (Turning  to  him)  No,  Brewster, 
no! 

BREWSTER.  (Laying  his  hand  on  his  shoulder) 
Right  or  wrong — my  country,  that  is,  my  client — 
'tis  of  thee — (Turning  and  going  over  toward  MRS. 
JEFFRIES)  that's  the  painful  part  of  the  lawyer's 


LTHE  THIRD  DEGREE.  39 

profession,  Mrs.  Jeffries — the — client's  weakness  is 
the  lawyer's  strength — when  men  hate  each  other, 
and  rob  each  other,  we  lawyers  don't  pacify  them — - 
we  dare  not — we  encourage  them — we  pit  them 
against  each  other  for  profit — if  we  didn't — they'd 
go  to  some  lawyer  who  did.  When  a  man  wants  to 
do  the  wrong  thing — he's  always  willing  to  pay  a 
good  price — to  the  lawyer  who  advises  him  to  do  it. 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  Yes — I'm  afraid  we  all  love  to  be 
advised  to  do  what  we  want  to  do 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  That  may  apply  to  the  great  gen 
erality  of  people — but  not  to  me 

BREWSTER.    Certainly  not,  Jeffries 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  Well,  drop  in  and  see  me  this 
evening. 

(Starts  for  door  R.  3.  BREWSTER  shows  he  is  think 
ing  of  ANNIE,  who  is  out  there,  and  says 
quickly. ) 

BREWSTER.  I  think  you  had  better  go  by  this 
door.  (Indicating  door  L.) 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  (Crossing  to  D.  ~L.,  front  of  table) 
Very  well,  Mrs.  Jeffries  will  be  delighted  to  have 
you  dine  with  us. 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.     Yes — indeed 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  Well,  good-bye — (At  door  L.  3  E.) 
Well,  see  what  you  can  do — are  you  coming,  dear? 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  Not  yet.  I  want  to  speak  to  Mr. 
Brewster.  Call  for  me  in  about  an  hour. 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  Yes,  of  course — well,  good-bye. 
(Exit  door  L.  3  E.) 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  I  must  see  this  girl,  Mr.  Brew 
ster,  I  think  I  can  persuade  her  to  change  her  course 
of  action.  (Rising)  I  must  see  her.  (BREWSTER 
frowns  and  shakes  his  head  doubtingly)  You  don't 
think  it  advisable,  do  you? 

BREWSTER.  Perhaps  I'd  better  see  her  first — 
suppose  you  come  back  in  half  an  hour — can  you? 


40  THE  THIR_D  DEGREE. 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.    Yes 

BREWSTER.    Very  well,  I'll  prepare  her — that  is, 

J.  11  — ' 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  (Extending  her  hand  to  him) 
Thank  you,  Mr.  Brewster — you're  so  kind — it  needs 
a  great  deal  of  patience  to  be  a  lawyer,  doesn't  it? 

BREWSTER.  It  needs  almost  evey thing  except 
conscience.  (He  has  been  standing,  leaning  on  a 
book.  He  crosses  to  door,  taking  book  with  him, 
and  opens  it  for  MRS.  JEFFRIES.  MRS.  JEFFRIES 
turns  as  she  goes. )  In  about  half  an  hour — then • 

MRS.   JEFFRIES.      (Crossing  to   door)     Yes 

BREWSTER.    Good  morning 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  (As  she  exits)  Good  morning — 
(Exit  door  L.  3.  E.) 

[(BREWSTER  doses  door,  pauses  in  deep  thought  a 
moment — goes  up  to  L.  c.  bookcase,  replaces 
book,  then  pushes  button  on  R.  side  of  zvindow 
and  comes  thoughtfully  down  to  back  of  table 
where  he  is  met  by  JONES,  who  enters  door 
R.  3  E.) 

JONES.     Yes,  sir 

BREWSTER.  Eh — oh — yes — tell  Mrs.  Howard 
Jeffries,  Junior,  I  wish  to  see  her. 

JONES.     (Surprised}     The  young 

BREWSTER.  Yes — the  young  one — (  JONES  grins 
a  broad-faced  grin)  What  the  devil  are  you  grin 
ning  at  ? 

JONES.  Yes,  sir — (Exits  door  R.  3  E.  At  his  exit, 
BREWSTER  turns,  crossing  slowly  in  deep  thought 
to  L.,  turns  and  comes  back,  when  he  gets  a  step  or 
two  nearer  R.  ANNIE  enters  and  comes  to  R.  c.) 

BREWSTER.  (Sees  her)  Oh — come  in,  sit  down 
— sit  down — (ANNIE  comes  to  chair,  but  doesn't  sit. 
He  goes  up  c.  in  thought,  and  turns  sees  she  is  not 
sitting)  Well,  why  don't  you  sit  down?  (ANNIE 
'sits.  He  comes  to  c.  back  of  table,  starts  to  speak, 
pause — then  blurts  out)  IJow  long  do  you  intend 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE.  41 

to  keep  up  this  system  of — warfare — How  long 
are  you  going  to  continue  to  force  your  way  into 
this  office? 

ANNIE.  I  didn't  force  my  way  in — I  didn't  ex 
pect  to  come  in — Mr.  Jones  said  you  wanted  to  see 
me 

BREWSTER.  I?  Oh,  yes — yes —  (Moves  aivay, 
but  only  a  moment,  to  cover  his  confusion)  I  want 
to  tell  you  for  the  fiftieth  time:  I  can  do  nothing 
for  you 

ANNIE.  Fifty — is  it  fifty  times — you've  told  me 
- — it  don't  seem  that  many. 

BREWSTER.    Then  for  the  last  time 

ANNIE.  Not  the  last  time,  Mr.  Brewster — I  shall 
come  again  to-morrow. 

BREWSTER.    You  will  ? 

ANNIE.    Yes,  sir 

BREWSTER.    You're  determined 

ANNIE.    Yes,  sir 

BREWSTER.  But  I  can't  permit  this  to  go  on — I 
represent  my  client,  Mr.  Howard  Jeffries,  Senior — 
and  he  won't  consent  to  my  taking  up  your  husband's 
case — (Moving  to  L.,  and  back  again"} 

ANNIE.    Can't  you  do  it  without  his  consent? 

BREWSTER.  I  suppose  I  can,  but  I  won't.  (Turn 
ing  and  going  a  little  to  L.  from  her) 

ANNIE.    Well — you  ought  to 

BREWSTER.    Indeed ! 

ANNIE.  It's  your  duty  to  do  it — your  duty  to  his 
son  and  to  me — to  Mr.  Jeffries  himself — why,  he's 
so  eaten  up  with  family  and  pride  that  he  can't  see 
the  difference  between  right  and  wrong 

BREWSTER.    No,  I'm  his  lawyer. 

ANNIE.  Then  it's  your  duty  to  put  him  right — • 
(BREWSTER  goes  L.  in  impatience  through  laugh. 
Help  laugh  by  observing  impatience  at  this  thrust) 
Let  me  tell  you  it's  downright  wicked  of  you  to  re 
fuse — you're  hurting  Howard — why,  when  I  was 
hunting  around  for  a  lawyer,  one  of  them  actually 


42  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

refused  to  take  up  the  case  because  he  said  old 
Brewster  must  think  Howard  was  guilty  or  he'd 
have  taken  up  the  case  himself — (BREWSTER  comes 
to  L.  of  T. — lower  end  of  it)  You  and  his  father 
are  putting  the  whole  world  against  him  and  you 
don't  know  it. 

BREWSTER.  (Turning  front,  realizing  the  force- 
•fill  truth)  But  I  do  know 

ANNIE.    Then  why  do  you  do  it  ? 

BREWSTER.  I — (Nonplussed)  That's  not  the 
question — (Turning  L.,  embarrassed) 

ANNIE.  It's  my  question — and  as  you  say — Fve 
asked  it  fifty  times,  and  I'll  ask  it  fifty  times  more — 
I'll  ask  until  you  answer  it. 

BREWSTER.  (Coming  to  chair  front  of  table — • 
sits)  So  you're  going  on  the  stage,  are  you? 

ANNIE.  I  shouldn't  be  at  all  surprised — I've  had 
a  very  big  offer. 

BREWSTER.  Well,  I'll  give  you  twice  as  much  if 
you  refuse  it. 

ANNIE.  You  mean  my  father-in-law  will  give  it 
— you  know  it's  no  use  your  asking  me  to  concede 
anything  unless  you  agree  to  defend  Howard. 

BREWSTER.    I  can't 

ANNIE.    Then  neither  can  I 

BREWSTER.    You're  determined  to  have  me? 

ANNIE.    Yes. 

BREWSTER.  (Bangs  table  with  his  fist,  rises,  goes 
L.  a  step  or  two,  then  back  to  chair  again  and  speaks 
angrily)  Young  woman,  you're  almost  as  obstinate 
as  your  father-in-law. 

ANNIE.    As  bad  as  that,  eh  ? 

BREWSTER.  (Going  to  her  and  leaning  over  table) 
But  my  dear  young  lady,  I  don't  argue  criminal 
cases. 

ANNIE.  That's  just  it — my  husband  is  not  a 
criminal — he  is  innocent.  I  don't  want  a  lawyer 
who  is  always  defending  criminals — I  want  one  who 
defends  a  man  because  he  isn't  a  criminal. 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE.  43 

BREWSTER.    There  are  other  lawyers. 

ANNIE.  But  there's  only  one  Mr.  Brewster — 
(BREWSTER  sits  in  chair  front  of  table  and  looks 
intently  front)  and  he's  the  greatest  lawyer  in  the 
world — and  he's  going  to  help  us — he's  going  to  save 
Howard's  life 

BREWSTER.  (Turns  quickly  to  her)  You  always 
say  that.  (Turns  front  again)  Upon  my  word  / 
shall  begin  to  believe  it  soon 

ANNIE.  And  I  shall  say  it  again — and  again — 
every  time  I  see  you. 

BREWSTER.  And  how  often  do  you  intend  that 
shall — be ? 

ANNIE.  Every  day — I  shall  say  it  and  think  it 
until — until — it  comes  true. 

BREWSTER.  You  mean  you  intend  to  keep  at  me 
until  I  give  way — through  sheer  exhaustion 

ANNIE.    That's  it  exactly 

BREWSTER.  (Turning  to  her  and  leaning  over 
table  angrily)  Young  woman — you — you — (Hesi 
tates)  you  know  you've  got  me  in  a  corner  and  you're 
going  to  keep  me  there — I  can  see  that — you — (Then 

helplessly  stops)  Well— I'll  be— d d.  (Turns 

front) 

ANNIE.  I  quite  agree  with  you.  (He  turns 
quickly,  folds  his  arms,  leans  back  in  chair  and  looks 
at  her  a  moment — pause) 

BREWSTER.    You — you're  a  pretty  brave  girl 

ANNIE.  No,  I'm  not — I'm  an  awful  coward — but 
I'm  fighting  for  him — Howard  Jeffries  lifted  me  up 
when  I  was  way  down  in  the  world  and  I'm  grateful 
— and  I'm  going  to  move  heaven  and  earth  to  bring 
his  father  around  to  my  way  of  thinking.  I've  got 
you  already — (BREWSTER  straightens  up  in  his 
chair) 

BREWSTER.  Got  me?  Already?  What  do  you 
mean  by  that? 

ANNIE.  Why,  you'd  say  "  yes  " — in  a  minute  if 
it  wasn't  for  old  Jeffries—— 


44  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

BREWSTER.     (Turning  front)    You  think  so? 

ANNIE.    I'm  sure  of  it — you're  afraid  of  him. 

BREWSTER.  (Turns  to  her)  Afraid  of  him — 
{Turns  away  and  laughs) 

ANNIE.  'Tain't  so  funny  as  it  sounds — you're 
afraid  of  opposing  him — I'm  afraid  of  him  myself — 

BREWSTER.  (Turning  to  her)  Then  why  do  you 
oppose  him  in  everything  ? 

ANNIE.  That's  the  only  way  I  can  get  his  atten 
tion — why,  when  he  met  me  out  there  to-day  he 
actually  looked  at  me — (BREWSTER  turns  to  fro.nt) 
for  the  first  time  in  his  life  he  recognized  that  he  has 
a  daughter-in-law — he  looked  at  me — and  I'm  not 
sure,  but  I  think  he  wanted  to  bow — he's  kinder 
beginning  to  sit  up  and  take  notice 

BREWSTER.  (Turning  to  her)  So  you  think  I'm 
afraid  of  him? 

ANNIE.  I'm  sure  of  it — you  liked  my  husband — 
and  you'd  just  love  to  rush  in  and  fight  for  him — 
(BREWSTER  turns  away  from  her  nervously,^  drum 
ming  on  arm  of  chair)  His  father  thinks  he  is  guilty 
and  well — you  don't  like  to  disobey  him. 

BREWSTER.     (Turning  to  her  quickly)     Disobey! 

ANNIE.  It's  very  natural — he's  an  influential  man 
; — you  know  on  which  side  your  bread  is  buttered 
and — (BREWSTER  starts)  Oh,  it's  very  natural — 
you're  looking  out  for  your  own  interests  and 

BREWSTER.  (Rises,  goes  down  L.  and  comes  back 
to  chair,  leaning  on  it  with  R.  hand,  throughout 
speech)  Circumstances  are  against  Howard— his 
father  judges  him  guilty  from  his  own  confession- 
it's  the  conclusion  I'm  compelled  to  come  to  myself 
— now — how  do  you  propose  to  change  that  con 
clusion  ? 

ANNIE.  Don't  have  to  change  it — You  don't  be 
lieve  Howard  guilty 

BREWSTER.    I  don't ? 

ANNIE.  No,  not  at  the  bottom  of  your  heart— 
You  knew  Howard  when  he  was  a  boy — and — you 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE.  45 

know  he  is  as  incapable  of  that  crime  as  you  are — 
(Pause — he  looks  at  her  intently,  comes  to  front  of 
chair,  sits  and  leans  forward  to  her) 

BREWSTER.  Mrs.  Jeffries — how  do  you  know 
your  husband  didn't  kill  Robert  Underwood? 

ANNIE.    I  know  it. 

BREWSTER.    Yes — but  how  do  you  know  it  ? 

ANNIE.  I  know  there's  a  God — but  I  can't  tell 
you  how  I  know  it — I  just  know  it — that's  all. 
Howard  didn't  do  it — I  know  he  didn't 

BREWSTER.     Ah — that's   a  very   fair  sample   of 
feminine  logic — (Looking  away  from  her) 
happy — (He  rises  and  goes  around  to  L.  upper  end 
of  table,  speaking  as  he  goes)    Well,  the  system  has 

ANNIE.     Logic?    What's  that? 

BREWSTER.     Oh,  no  matter. 

ANNIE.  What's  the  use  of  logic — when  you  know 
a  thing  you  know  it,  and  it  makes  you  happy. 

BREWSTER.  Feminine  deduction — think  a  thing — 
believe  it — and  then  you  know  it — and  it  makes  you 
its  advantages.  (  Turns  front  L.  of  T. — Sympatheti 
cally)  Haven't  you  any  relatives  to  whom  you  can 
go? 

ANNIE.     No — my  father  died,  up — at 

BREWSTER.  (Interrupting  her  and  coming  around 
to  back  of  table  c.)  Yes,  yes,  I  know — I  got 
William  Sands'  family  history  for  Mr.  Jeffries  after 
your  marriage — it's  filed  away  among  the  family 
archives. 

ANNIE.  It's  a  wonder  it  don't  burn  'em  up — my 
folks  were  not  a  very  brilliant  lot — but  my  father 
was  all  right  at  heart,  Mr.  Brewster.  Blood  was 
thicker  than  water  with  him — he'd  never  have  gone 
back  on  his  flesh  and  blood  as  Howard's  father  has 
done. 

(BREWSTER  looks  at  her  steadily,  without  speaking — • 
she  catches  his  eye* — looks  at  him.  After  quite 
a  pause  he  shakes  his  head.) 


46  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

BREWSTER.  It's  too  bad — I'm  sorry  for  you,  really 
I — (ANNIE  laughs  hysterically — half  crying,  half 
laughing)  Why  do  you  laugh? 

ANNIE.  What's  the  use  of  crying — ha — it's  al 
most  a  joke — you're  sorry — my  father-in-law  is 
sorry — and  I  suppose  my  mother-in-law  is  shedding 
tears  for  me  too — you're  all  sorry — and  you're  all 
wearing  crepe  for  us — but  why  don't  some  of  you  do 
something?  (Impatiently  slapping  table — not  too 
hard  or  too  angrily.  Rises — pause — then  goes  up 
to  R.  c.  a  bit — controls  herself,  wipes  her  eyes,  turns 
and  comes  down  nearly  in  front  of  chair)  Well — 
you  sent  for  me — what  do  you  want  to  see  me  about, 
Mr.  Brewster? 

BREWSTER.  Sit  down — sit  down — (She  does  so — 
pause — during  which  he  goes  up  to  window  then 
down  again  back  of  table — looks  away  from  her) 
I  want  to  tell  you,  you  mustn't  come  here  again. 

ANNIE.    Anything  else? 

BREWSTER.  (Looks  at  her)  No — of  course  you'll 
be  amply  compensated. 

ANNIE.  I  suppose  so — oh,  well — I  guess  I'll  go — 
(Rising  slightly,  smiling  to  herself — BREWSTER 
turns  front)  This  isn't  my  lucky  day — they 
wouldn't  let  me  into  the  prison  to  see  Howard  this 
morning. 

BREWSTER.  Poor  girl — you're  having  a  hard  time, 
aren't  you? 

ANNIE.  Things  have  been  better — Howard  and 
I  were  very  happy  when  we  first — (Chokes — 
forces  a  laugh — He  looks  at  her)  Here — I  must 
keep  off  that  subject — (Laughs) 

BREWSTER.    Why  do  you  laugh  ? 

ANNIE.  Well,  if  I  don't  laugh — I'll  cry — and  as 
I  don't  want  to  cry — why — I  just  laugh — it's  got  to 
be  one  or  the  other — (Laughs)  Well,  I  guess  I'll  go 
home — home — that's  the  worst  part  of  it — home — 
well — you  have  your  own  troubles — I'll  see  you  to- 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE.  47 

morrow,  Mr.  Brewster — perhaps  you'll  have  better 
news  for  me — (Starts  for  door) 

BREWSTER.  (Looking  straight  out)  Wait  a 
moment — (She  stops,  looks  at  him,  he  points  at 
chair)  Sit  down.  (She  hesitates  a  moment  then  she 
does  so)  I  want  to  ask  you  a  question.  How  do 
you  account  for  Howard's  confessing  to  the  shoot 
ing ? 

ANNIE.  I  don't  account  for  it — he  says  he  doesn't 
remember  confessing  and  I  don't  believe  he  did  con 
fess 

BREWSTER.    But  witnesses 

ANNIE.    Yes — policemen 

BREWSTER.  (Sitting  in  chair  back  of  T.,  looks 
straight  front)  That  makes  no  difference — he  made 

a  confession  and  signed 

ANNIE.  Against  his  will — I  mean — he  didn't 
know  what  he  was  doing — at  the  time — I've  had  a 
talk  with  the  physician  who  was  called  in,  Dr. 
Bernstein — he  says  that  Captain  Clinton  uses 
hypnotic  influence — that  he  can  compel  people  to  say 
what  he  wants  them  to  say — well,  Howard  is — he's 
what  they  call  a  subject — they  told  him  he  did  it 
till  he  believed  he  did — Do  you  understand  what — 
(Looks  at  BREWSTER — he  is  intently  looking  front- — 
apparently  paying  no  attention)  Oh,  well — sorry  I 
don't  interest  you — (She  starts  to  rise) 

BREWSTER.  Sit  still.  (She  resumes  her  position) 
Who  told  you  he  was  a  subject  ? 

ANNIE.  Dr.  Bernstein — and  Howard  told  me  so 
himself — a  friend  of  his  at  college  used  to  make  him 

do  all  sorts  of  stunts  to  amuse  the  other  boys 

BREWSTER.  A  friend  at  college?  Do  you  re 
member  his  name  ? 

ANNIE.    No,  but  Howard  knows  it 

BREWSTER.     (Taking  pad  and  pencil,  commences 
to  write)     Um — I  would  like  to  see  Dr.  Bernstein. 
ANNIE.     (Opening  bag)     I  have  his  address. 


48  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

BREWSTER.  (Throwing  her  small  pad)  Write  it 
down  there. 

ANNIE.  I  have  his  card.  (  Gets  card  from  bag — 
lays  it  beside  him  as  he  writes) 

BREWSTER.  So  you  think  I'm  afraid  of  Mr. 
Jeffries,  do  you? 

ANNIE.  Oh,  no,  not — really  afraid — just — 
(Business)  scared — I  didn't  mean  afraid — I 
meant 

BREWSTER.  Oh,  yes,  you  did,  and  I  want  you  to 
understand  I'm  not  afraid  of  any  man,  and  as  to 
allowing  my  personal  interest  to  interfere  with  my 
duty 

ANNIE.    Oh,  I  didn't  say  that,  did  I  ? 

BREWSTER.  You  said  I  knew  on  which  side  my 
bread  was  buttered 

ANNIE.    Did  I  ? 

BREWSTER.  You  say  a  great  many  things,  Mrs. 
Jeffries — but  I'm  not  afraid — please  understand  that 
— afraid — I'm  going  to  take  up  your  case. 

ANNIE.  (Jumping  to  her  feetf  her  back  to 
audience)  Oh,  Mr.  Brewster. 

BREWSTER.  (Through  this  ANNIE  manifests  her 
joy — crying,  etc.)  Now,  don't  pretend  to  be  sur 
prised — you  knew  I  would — you  knew  it  when  you 
came  in  that  door — my  clerks  knew  it — everybody 
knew  it — but  me — (She  moves  to  table  and  leans 
over  it)  Now,  please  don't  thank  me,  I  hate  to  be 
thanked  for  doing  what  I  want  to  do — and  if  I 
didn't  want  to  do  it — I  wouldn't — (Commences  to 
write  again) 

ANNIE.    I'd  like  to  say,  Thank  you. 

BREWSTER.    Well,  please  don't 

ANNIE.    You're  the  dearest — kindest 

BREWSTER.    No 

ANNIE.  Most  generous — noble-hearted — cour- 
geous 

BREWSTER.    Mrs.  Jeffries 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE.  49 

ANNIE.  (Crossing  to  L.  front  of  table,  crying  for 
joy)  Oh,  I'd  like  to  have  a  good  cry 

BREWSTER.  (Without  looking  up)  Well,  have  it 
and  be  done  with  it! 

ANNIE.  (Continuing,  going  up  L.,  and  wiping  her 
eyes)  I  knew  you  wasn't  afraid — (  JONES  enters 
with  card,  goes  to  BREWSTER — hands  it  to  him,  then 
starts  for  door)  I  knew  you  wasn't  afraid 

BREWSTER.  (As  JONES  starts  for  door)  Mr. 
Jones — get  a  stenographic  report  of  the  case  of  the 
people  against  Howard  Jeffries,  Junior.  (ANNIE 
turns  to  them)  Get  the  Coroner's  inquest — the 
Grand  Jury  indictment,  and  get  a  copy  of  the 
Jeffries  confession,  get  everything — right  away. 

JONES.  (Looking  at  ANNIE)  Yes,  sir — do  we— - 
do  we 

BREWSTER.     You  know  d — d — well  we  do. 

JONES.  Yes,  sir.  ( JONES  smiling  at  ANNIE  in 
broad  satisfaction) 

BREWSTER.    And  stop  grinning 

JONES.    Yes,  sir — (Exits  door  R.  3  E.) 

BREWSTER.  You  see,  even  he  knew  you  were 
going  to  beat  me  at  this  little  game ! 

ANNIE.  (Coming  front  of  T.,  near  chair)  Mr. 
Brewster — may  I  just  say  Thank  you? 

BREWSTER.     Certainly  not. 

ANNIE.  (Crossing  down  L.)  Very  well.  I  won't, 
but  I'm  thinking  it  just  the  same. 

BREWSTER.  (Rising)  Now,  I  want  you  to  be  ex 
ceedingly  nice  to  this  lady. 

ANNIE.    Lady? 

BREWSTER.    Mrs.  Howard  Jeffries,  Senior * 

ANNIE.  My  mother-in-law.  Oh,  good  Lord—? 
(Looking  away) 

BREWSTER.  She  wants  to  see  you — (ANNIE  turns 
to  him)  Now,  please  remember  she  is  actuated  by 
a  genuine  desire  to  be  of  some  service  to  you 

ANNIE.  P'r'aps  so — but  the  door  was  slammed 
in  my  face  when  I  called  to  see  her 


Jo  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

BREWSTER.  She  probably  knew  nothing  about  it. 
In  any  case — please  remember  she  is  my  client 

ANNIE.  All  right,  Mr.  Brewster — I'll  remem 
ber • 

.  JEFFRIES,  SR.,  enters,  and  comes  to  R.  c., 
BREWSTER  turning  to  her  as  she  enters.) 

BREWSTER.  Mrs.  Jeffries,  may  I  present — Mrs. 
Howard  Jeffries,  Junior — (Business — They  bow — 
ANNIE  slightly  embarrassed — MRS.  JEFFRIES  self- 
possessed — pause — a  distinct  pause — a  very  un 
pleasant  silence)  I  told  her  you  wished  to  speak  to 
her — (Pause)  I  think  perhaps  I — I'll  leave  you  to 
gether — pardon  me — (Bows,  exits  D.  R.  As  she  does 
so  MRS.  JEFFRIES  crosses  forward) 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  You  may  think  it  rather  strange 
that  I  have  asked  for  this — interview — but — Annie — 
you  don't  mind  my  calling  you  Annie,  do  you  ? 

ANNIE.  I  don't  see  why  I  should — it's  my  name — 
and  we're  relatives — by  marriage — relatives — ft 
seems  funny,  don't  it — but  we  don't  pick  out  our 
relatives — and  we  must  take  'em  as  they  come. 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  (Going  to  chair  L.  of  table,  bring 
ing  it  down  for  ANNIE)  As  we  are  what  we  are, 
Annie,  let  us  try  and  make  the  best  of  it.  (Placing 
chair)  Won't  you  sit  down — (She  crosses  to  chair t 
front  of  table) 

ANNIE.  (Sitting;  MRS.  JEFFRIES  likewise) 
Make  the  best  of  it — God  knows  I've  tried  to  make 
the  best  of  it — but  I've  had  mighty  little  encourage 
ment,  Mrs.  Jeffries — When  I  called  to  see  you  to 
beg  you  to  use  your  influence  with  Mr.  Jeffries  to 
help  us — "  not-at-home  "  was  handed  to  me  by  a 
liveried  footman  and — the  door  was  slammed  in  my 
face — ten  minutes  later  you  walked  out  to  your 
carriage  and  drove  away. 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  I  knew  nothing  of  this — please 
believe  me 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE.  51 

ANNIE.  It's  what  I  got  just  the  same— but  I'm 
not  complaining,  understand — only  I  did  think  that 
at  such  a  time  one  woman  might  have  held  out  a 
helping  hand  to  another 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  How  could  I?  Now  be  reason 
able — you  are  held  responsible  for  Howard's  present 
position. 

ANNIE.  Yes — by  the  police — and  by  a  couple 
of  yellow  journals — I  didn't  think  you'd  believe  all 
the  gossip  and  scandal  that's — been  printed  about 
me — I  didn't  believe  what  was  said  about  you 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  What  do  you  mean?  What  was 
said  about  me? 

ANNIE.  Well — they  do  say  you  married  old 
Jeffries  for  his  social  position. 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  Old  Jeffries — have  you  no 
respect  for  your  husband's  father? 

ANNIE.  Not  a  bit — and  I  never  will  have  till  he 
acts  like  a  father — I  only  had  one  interview  with 
him  and  it  finished  him  with  me  for  all  time — he 
ain't  a  father — he's  a  fish 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  (In  horror)  A  fish  ?  But  surely 
you  respect  him. 

.  ANNIE.  No,  ma'am — I  respect  a  man  because  he 
behaves  like  a  man — not  because — he  lives  in  a 
marble  palace  on  Fifth  Avenue 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  But,  surely,  my  dear  child,  you 
realize  that  when  you  married  Howard,  you — to  say 
the  least — made  a  mistake 

ANNIE.  Yes — that  part  of  it  has  been  made 
pretty  plain — it  was  a  mistake — his  mistake — my 
mistake — but  now  it's  done  and  it  can't  be  undone — 
I  don't  see  why  you  can't  take  things  as  they  are 
and 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  And  welcome  you — into — into-^ 
our 

ANNIE.  Welcome  me !  (Rises  and  goes  down  L. 
through  speech  finishing,  back  to  audience)  Me,  no, 
ma'am — I'm  not  welcome  and  nothing  you  or  your 


52  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

set  could  say  would  ever  make  me  believe  that  I  was 
welcome — all  I  ask  is  that  Howard's  father  do  his 
duty  by  his  son 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  I  do  not  think — pardon  my  say 
ing  so — that  you  are  quite  in  a  position  to  judge  of 
what  constitutes  Mr.  Jeffries'  duty  to  his  son 

ANNIE.  Perhaps  not — I  only  know  what  I  would 
do — what  my  father  would  have  done — what  anyone 
would  do  if  they  had  a  spark  of  humanity  in  them — 
but  they  do  say  that  three  generations  of  society  life 
and  red  blood  turns  into  blue.  (Goes  up  L.) 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  Howard  acknowledged  his  guilt 
— any  sacrifice  we  may  make  will  be  thrown 
away 

ANNIE.  (Comes  down  to  chair  L.  of  T.,  leans  R. 
hand  on  L.,  half  facing  to  L.)  Well,  what  are  we  to 
do — stop  every  effort  to  save  him  because  things 
look  a  bit  black  for  him?  No,  ma'am — I  wasn't 
brought  up  that  way — I'm  going  to  make  a  fight. 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.     It's  useless. 

ANNIE.    Do  you  think  so? 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.     I'm  sure  of  it. 

ANNIE.    Mr.  Brewster  doesn't  think  so 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  You  mean  that  Mr.  Brewster  has 
encouraged  you  to — to 

ANNIE.  He's  done  more  than  encourage  me,  God 
bless  him,  he's  going  to  take  up  the  case 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  Without  consulting  Mr.  Jeffries' 
feelings  ? 

ANNIE.  He's  consulted  his  own  feelings — he 
doesn't  believe  Howard  guilty  and  he's  going  to 
defend  him 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  He  doesn't  believe  Howard 
guilty  ? 

ANNIE.     No,  ma'am. 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  (Anxiously)  The  papers  say 
there  was  a  quarrel  about  you — that  you  and  Mr. 
Underwood  were  too — too  friendly — they  implied 
that  Howard  was  jealous — is  this  true? 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE.  53 

ANNIE.  It's  all  talk — scandal — lies — not  a  word 
of  truth  in  it — Howard  never  had  a  jealous  thought 
of  me — and  as  for  me — why — I  worship  the  ground 
he  walks  on — didn't  he  sacrifice  everything  for  me  ? 
didn't  he  give  you  and  his  father  up  ?  didn't  he  marry 
me  ?  didn't  he  try  to  educate  and  make  a  lady  of  me  ? 
— do  you  suppose  I'd  give  a  man  like  that  cause  of 
jealousy?  My  God,  what  do  they  think  I  am? 
(Pause — turns,  goes  up  L.  a  bit)  What  do  the 
papers  care — they  print  things  that  cut  into  a  wo 
man's  heart  without  giving  it  a  thought — without 
knowing  or  caring  whether  it's  true  or  not — as  long 
as  it  interests  and  amuses  their  readers.  (Coming 
down  L.  c.)  You — you  don't  believe  I'm  the  cause 
of  his  misfortune,  do  you? 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  (Rises  and  goes  slowly  to  her) 
No,  Annie,  I  don't;  you  were  right  when  you  said 
that  at  such  a  time  as  this  one  woman  should  stand 
by  another — and  I'm  going  to  stand  by  you — let  me 
be  your  friend — let  me  help  you — (Taking  her  hand) 
Will  you? 

^  ANNIE.  Thank  you,  Mrs.  Jeffries — it's  the  first 
kind  word  I've  had  from  his  side  of  the  family  and 
I'm— -(Pause)  It's  a  queer  thing,  Mrs.  Jeffries — • 
and  it  keeps  coming  into  my  mind  all  the  time — • 
Howard  told  me  that  while  he  was  at  Underwood's 
that  nigh^  he  thought  he  heard  your  voiec — (MRS. 
JEFFRIES  is  rigid  and  stares  straight  out)  It  must 
have  been  a  dream,  of  course — your  voice — that's 
queer,  isn't  it?  (MRS.  JEFFRIES  staggers  to  chair , 
front  of  table  and  sits.  ANNIE  goes  over  to  her} 
What's  the  matter?  (Sympathetically)  I  haven't 
said  anything — anything — wrong  have  I?  if  I  have, 
I'm  sorry — I'm  afraid — I — I've  been  very  rude,  and 

you've  been  so  kind 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.     No — you've  said  nothing — done 
nothing — you've  had  a  great  deal  to  bear,  Annie — • 

(Takes  ANNIE'S  hand — turning  to  her)  Tell  me — > 
what  do  they  say  about  the  woman  who  went  to  see 


54  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

Robert  Underwood  the  night  of  the — the  tragedy? 

ANNIE.  (Moving  to  L.)  The  police  can't  find 
her — but — Mr.  Brewster  will — Captain  Clinton  ac 
cuses  me  of  being  the  lady — he  doesn't  like  me 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  Supposing  she  is  found — what 
can  she  prove  ?  What  difference  will  it  make  ? 

ANNIE.  (Going  up  a  bit)  If  she  didn't  shoot 
Robert  Underwood — she  probably  knows  who  did — 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  How  can  she  know?  Howard 
confessed  that  he  did  it  himself — he  confessed  it — 
or  no  one  would  have  believed  it  possible 

ANNIE.  We — don't  believe  it — and  we  never  did 
believe  it 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.    Then  why — did  he  confess? 

ANNIE.  (Coming  toward  her)  He  never  con 
fessed,  Mrs.  Jeffries — if  he  did,  he  didn't  know  it. 
(Sitting  in  L.  chair — leaning  forward — and  speaking 
earnestly  and  intensely)  They  forced  it  out  of  him 
when  he  didn't  know  what  he  was  saying 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  (Turning  to  her)  Annie,  did  he 
tell  you  that  ? 

ANNIE.  Yes — Dr.  Bernstein  says  they  forced  it 
out  of  his  tired  brain — I  made  Howard  go  over  every 
second  of  his  life  that  night  from  the  minute  he  left 
me  until  he  was  arrested — there  wasn't  a  harsh  word 
between  them — (MRS.  JEFFRIES  makes  agitated 
movement — ANNIE  sees  it,  rises  and  goes  to  her 
anxiously)  What's  the  matter — you  look  frightened 
to  death — you 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  (Appealmgly.  Clinging  to  her) 
Annie — what  am  I  to  do — what  am  I  to  do — I  be 
lieved  Howard  guilty  as  his  father  did — I — it  was 
natural — his  own  confession — his  own  confession— 
every  one  believed  it — I — I  had  no  reason  to  doubt 
it — (Turning  as  the  thought  strikes  her)  Under 
wood  must  have  kept  his  word  and  shot  himself • 

ANNIE.    (Backing  away  to  L.)    Kept  his 
and  shot  himself 

MRS.  JEFFRIES,   yes. 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE.  55 

ANNIE.  (Looks  at  her)  You  knew  Robert1 
Underwood,  Mrs.  Jeffries — you're  not  the  woman 
who  went  to  see  him  that  night  ? 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.    Yes 

ANNIE.  (Righteously  angry)  Then  why  didn't 
you  come  forward? 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.     The  disgrace 

ANNIE.    Disgrace!     (Turning  and  going  L.) 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  (Rising)  Can't  you  realize  what 
it  means  to  be  associated  with  such  a  crime 

ANNIE.  (Turning  to  her)  Disgrace,  what  is 
disgrace  when  a  human  life  is  at  stake  ? 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  (Moving  R.  a  step)  But  it 
seemed  useless — a  useless  sacrifice — in  the  face  of 
his  confession 

ANNIE.  (Coming  down  to  L.  chair)  Yes — I  see 
: — but  it  must  be  done  now 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  Yes — it  must  be  done  now — oh, 
if  I'd  only  done  it  before — (Going  to  R.  a  step 
and  leaning  against  table)  If  I'd  only  told  Mr. 
Jeffries  the  whole  truth — you  speak  of  Howard's 
sufferings — if  he  didn't  do  it — at  least  he  has  the 
consciousness  of  his  own  innocence,  but  I — the  con 
stant  fear  of  being  found  out  is  worse  than  any  hell 
the  imagination  can  conjure  up — I  dreaded  it — I 
dread  it  now — it  means  disgrace — my  husband  must 
know — the  whole  world  must  know 

ANNIE.    I  can't  believe  it — I  can't  believe  it. 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  It's  true,  Robert  Underwood  and 
I  were  once  engaged  to  be  married,  but  I  broke  it  off 
when  I  found  out  what  kind  of  a  man  he  was — I 
went  there  that  night  because  he  wrote  me  a  letter 
in  which  he  threatened  to  kill  himself — I  was  afraid 
he  meant  it,  and  I  wanted  to  prevent  it — I — didn't 
tell  Mr.  Jeffries  I  was  going — and  now  when  the 
truth  comes  out  and  I  acknowledge  that  I  visited  this 
man — can't  you  see  what  it  means — (Going  R. 
through  balance  of  speech — turns  and  goes  up  to 
'chair  R.  of  table)  JVhat  a  scandal  there'll  be !  The 


56  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

whole  world  will  put  an  evil  construction  on  my 
action — they'll  think  the  very  worst.  (Seating  her 
self  in  chair  R.  of  T.)  They'll  say  that  I — God 
knows  what  they'll  say — My  husband  will  be  dragged 
through  the  mire  of  another  public  scandal — his 
social  prestige  will — oh,  I  dare  not  think  of  it — my 
duty  is  to  that  poor  unfortunate  boy  and  I  mustn't 
think  of  myself 

ANNIE.  (Crossing  to  her)  Have  you  the  letter 
that  Mr.  Underwood  wrote  you? 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  Yes,  it's  at  home — I've  never  been 
able  to  destroy  it — I  don't  know  why  I  kept  it,  but 
thank  God  I  have  it — the  disgrace — it's  ruin — it's 
the  end  of  it  all — Annie — (She  breaks  down  L.) 

ANNIE.  I  don't  want  to  disgrace  you — or  ruin 
you — but  what  am  I  to  do — tell  me  what  am  I  to  do  ? 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.    I  don't  know 

( ANNIE  crosses  sadly  and  slowly  to  R.    Pause — then 
goes  up  to  her.) 

ANNIE.    Shall  you  tell  Mr.  Brewster  or  shall  I — ? 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  (Starting  up)  Mr.  Brewster — • 
why  should  he  know — I  suppose  he  must  know — 
sooner  or  later,  but  I — (Bus. — Breaks  down — falls 
over  table  in  paroxysm  of  tears) 

ANNIE.  It's  tough — isn't  it — (Going  down  R.  a 
bit) 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  (Rises,  and  through  speech 
crosses  to  L.  around  L.  of  T.  up  to  window — she  is 
crying,  and  drying  her  eyes)  Don't  say  anything 
now — give  me  a 'few  hours — then  1  can  think  what 
is  best  to  be  done — I'll  meet  you  at  Mr.  Brewster's 
house  to-night 

ANNIE.    All  right — to-night 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  Yes,  I'll  go  up  and  see  my 
mother,  and  then  to-night 

(BREWSTER  enters  from  D.  R.  3  E.  with  law-book  and 
papers;  he  speaks  to  MRS.  JEFFRIES,,  SR.) 


JHE  THIRD  DEGREE.  57 

BREWSTER,  Pardon  me,  Mrs.  Jeffries,  I  hope  I 
haven't — kept  you  waiting — (He  looks  at  both  of 
them,  then  to  back  of  T.,  stoops  down  over  book) 
Oh,  is  this  as  far  as  you've  got?  I've  been  talking 
to  Dr.  Bernstein  over  the  phone. 

ANNIE.  (Bus.  with  BREWSTER)  I  have  told 
Mrs.  Jeffries — that  you  have  undertaken  Howard's 
defence. 

BREWSTER.  Yes,  I've  been  quite  busy  since  I 
saw  you — I've  asked  Captain  Clinton  for  an  inter 
view,  and  he  and  Dr.  Bernstein  are  coming  to  see  me 
this  evening — And  I  have  put  one  of  the  very  best 
detectives  we  have  on  the  trail  of  the  woman  who 
visited  Underwood  that  night,  Mrs.  Jeffries — I  don't 
think  the  police  have  been  trying  very  hard  to  find 
her — they're  satisfied  with  Howard's  confession — • 
but  we'll  get  her 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  Yes — (Coming  down  to  chair  L. 
of  table—) 

(Enter  JONES.) 

JONES.  I  told  Mr.  Jeffries  that  Mrs.  Jeffries  was 
here 

BREWSTER.  Yes — (To  JONES)  Why  didn't  you 
tell  him  that  two  Mrs.  Jeffries  were  here? • 

(HOWARD  JEFFRIES,  SR.  enters  R.  3  E.    JONES  exits.') 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  (Comes  to  R.  c.,  sees  ANNIE, 
plainly  shows  he  is  annoyed — crosses  to  L.  of  c. ;  re- 
proachfully  to  BREWSTER)  Brewster!  (To  MRS. 
JEFFRIES)  I  regret,  my  dear — that  you  should  be 
subjected  to  these  family  annoyances 

BREWSTER.  Mr.  Jeffries — I  have  decided  to 
undertake  Mr.  Howard's  defense 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  (Looks  at  him  indignantly — then 
haughtily  says:)  Indeed ! — then  you  will  please 
consider  our  business  relations  to  have  ceased  from 


58  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

this  moment—  (Crosses  to  L.  3  E.  opens  door,  turns 
to  BREWSTER,  who  continues  to  look  at  book) 
Alicia ! 

(MRS.  JEFFRIES  with  a  look  at  ANNIE  signifying 
"  to-night;'  crosses  and  exits,  followed  by  MR. 
JEFFRIES.) 
ANNIE.    Oh!    Mr.  Brewster! 

BREWSTER.     Well,  who's  afraid  now?    '(Sits  in 
chair,  back  of  table) 

CURTAIN. 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE.  59 


ACT  III. 

SCENE: — Represents  the  Library  of  the  home  of 
BREWSTER.  It  is  a  square  set  in  3  with  Fire 
place  L.  2  and  General  Entrances — door  L.  3  E. 
and  door  R.  3  E.  Back  antique  arch  with  square 
bay  window.  Leaded  windows  and  window- 
seat — Running  at  R.  and  L.  angles  -from  R.  c. 
corner  of  set  to  door  and  arch.  Bookcases  4 
feet  high  filled  with  books  at  R.  2  E.  Bookcase 
built  in  flat,  filled  with  books.  Small  table  down 
R.  with  fancy  lamp> — blotter,  ink-well,  pen  stand, 
data  stand — etc.  In  the  c.  large  5^2  or  6  foot 
Library  table  of  covered  weathered  oak,  in 
front  of  F.  p.  an  armchair,  to  R.  of  T.  an  arm 
chair — back  of  T.  an  armchair,  and  L.  of  table  a 
smaller  chair  to  match  chair  F.  p.;  and  R.  u. 
corner  of  arch,  large  armchair,  in  L.  u. 
corner  also  up  R.  ;  large  high  pedestal  dozvn  L. 
on  which  is  a  large  sized  jardiniere.  Rich 
heavy  red  curtains,  drawn,  conceal  the  win 
dows.  A  rich  crimson  carpet  is  on  the  floor,  in 
the  c.:  a  12  to  14  feet  square  black  fur-rug — ; 
brackets  (3  light)  up  on  R.,  and  L.  foots. 
The  lamps  must  have  fancy  red  shades. 
High  panelled  dark  oak  walls  to  within  8  feet 
of  ceiling.  The  walls  above  panelling,  of  rich 
cream  stucco  work.  The  armchairs  should  be 
ELIZABETHAN  period.  The  chair  at  F.  p.  of 
dark  wood,  leather  seat,  studded  with  large 
brass  nail-heads.  The  chairs  to  L.  of  T.  and  up 
R.  of  Arch  to  match  the  chair.  The  general 
color-scheme  is  red  and  black  or  dark  brass. 
On  the  table  c.  a  humidor  full  of  cigars;  some 
books,  and  on  mantel  and  book-cases,  vases, 
bronzes,  etc.  An  electric  push-button  on  wall 
just  above  door  R. 


Co  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

AT  RISE  : — BREWSTER  is  seated  at  F.  p.  poring  over 
some  typewritten  legal  papers.  DR.  BERNSTEIN 
is  seated  L.  of  table.  They  have  been  discussing 
the  papers  in  hand.  After  a  momentary  pause, 
the  SERVANT  enters  with  card  on  tray,  goes  to 
BREWSTER,  who  takes  card. 

BREWSTER.  (To  SERVANT)  Ask  him  to  come  up! 
(SERVANT  exits.  To  DR.  BERNSTEIN)  It's  Howard 
Jeffries'  father — I  was  afraid  he  wouldn't  come — I 
shall  always  be  grateful  for  your  promptness  in 
responding  to  my  request,  and  especially  for  this 
information. 

DR.  BERNSTEIN.  I  am  only  too  happy  to  do  any 
thing  in  my  power  to  assist  you  in  this  matter — I 
feel  exactly  as  you  do.  I've  read  the  boy's  con 
fession  and  I  give  you  my  professional  word — it's 
absurd  and  contradictory — it  sounds  like  the  in 
voluntary  elaboration  of  a  suggestion  put  into  his 
mind  by  someone  interested  in  the  case — the  law 
ought  to  recognize  these  scientific  facts. 

BREWSTER.  (Rising  and  around  up  towards  the 
door  as  he  speaks)  The  law  doesn't  recognize 
metaphysics  and  I'm  afraid  it  never  will  until 
our  lawmakers  study  sciences  as  well  as  politics. 
(HOWARD  JEFFRIES,  SR.,  enters  D.  L.  a  few  steps — •. 
BERNSTEIN  rises  as  he  enters)  I'm  glad  you  have 
come,  Mr.  Jeffries — permit  me  to  introduce  Dr. 
Bernstein — Mr.  Howard  Jeffries,  Senior.  (Both 
acknowledge  the  introduction)  Won't  you  sit 
down? 

(Crossing  in  front  of  him  to  armchair  LV  and  in 
viting  him  to  sit.  JEFFRIES,  SR.,  crosses  to  arm 
chair  and  sits,  as  BREWSTER  does;  DR.  BERN 
STEIN  goes  up  and  around  to  back  of  T.) 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  The  matter  is  urgent,  your  mes 
sage  said. 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE.  61 

BREWSTER.  Yes — (Crossing  to  R.  end  of  T.)  Sit 
down,  Doctor — (DR.  BERNSTEIN  acknowledges  this, 
and  sits  in  armchair  back  of  T.,  then  turns  and  faces 
him)  I  expect  Captain  Clinton  in  a  few  minutes 
and  the  matter  will  be  placed  before  you. 

MR.  JEFFRIES.    The  matter — of — of  my  son's — ? 

BREWSTER.  Exactly — your  presence  is  necessary 
and 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  But  I  do  not  wish  to  be  present—! 
you  know  that  and  yet  you  sent  for  me. 

BREWSTER.  Mr.  Jeffries — it  is  positively  neces 
sary  that  you  shall  be  present  when  I  tell  Captain 
Clinton  that  he  has  either  wilfully  or  ignorantly 
forced  your  son  to  confess  to  having  committed  a 
crime  of  which  I  am  persuaded  he  is  absolutely  in 
nocent. 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  If  I  can  be  of  service,  of  course,  I 
— I  am  only  too  glad — but  what  can  I  say — what 
can  I  do 

BREWSTER.  (Seating  himself  R.  of  T.)  Nothing 
— but  the  distinct  moral  effect  of  your  presence  is 
invaluable.  Believe  me — I  would  not  have  taken 
this  step  unless  I  was  absolutely  sure  of  my  position 
— I  have  been  informed  that  Underwood  committed 
suicide — and  to-night  evidence  confirming  this  state 
ment  is  to  be  placed  in  my  hands.  The  woman  who 
paid  him  that  mysterious  visit  just  before  his  death 
has  promised  to  come  here  and  tell  us  what  she 
knows.  Now  if  Captain  Clinton  can  be  made  to  ad 
mit  the  possibility  of  his  being  mistaken  it  means 
that  your  son  will  be  free  in  a  few  days. 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  Who  has  given  you  this  informa 
tion? 

(The  MAID  enters  with  card  and  goes  to  BREWSTE£ 
R.) 

BREWSTER.  Howard's  wife — (MR.  JEFFRIES 
shrugs  his  shoulders)  She  knows  who  the  woman 


162  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

is  and  has  promised  to  bring  her  here  to-night,  with 
the  evidence  of  Underwood's  suicide. 

MR.  JEFFRIES.     And  you  are  depending  on  her 

BREWSTER.    Why  not  ? 

MR.  JEFFRIES.     She  is  the  cause  of  the  whole 
miserable  business — this  whole  miserable  business. 
BREWSTER.    (To  SERVANT)    Ask  him  up. 

(SERVANT  exits  door  L.  3  E.) 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  I  think  you  put  too  much  faith  in 
that  woman,  but  you'll  hnd  out — you'll  find  out — 
you'll  find  out. 

BREWSTER.  Yes — after  all,  that's  our  object,  Mr. 
Jeffries — to  find  out 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  What  is  the  name  of  this  mys 
terious  witness?  If  the  authorities  haven't  been 
able  to  find  her,  why  should  Howard's  wife? 
There  was  a  report  that  she  herself  was — acquainted 
with  Underwood,  or  something — did  she  tell  you 
who  it  was  ? 

BREWSTER.    No,  she  will  tell  us  to-night. 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  You'll  see — another  flash  in  the 
pan — I  don't  like  being  mixed  up  in  this  matter — 
it's  disagreeable — most  disagreeable. 

BREWSTER.  Yes,  sir,  it  is  disagreeable — but — un 
fortunately — it  is  life. 

(The  MAID  enters  ushering  in  CAPT.  CLINTON,  who 
is  followed  by  MALONEY.  He  lumbers  in,  in 
an  aggressive,  half-amused  manner,  indicating 
his  supreme  confidence  in  his  own  infallibility 
— he  does  not  remove  his  hat  until  he  comes 
well  in.  He  moves  down  to  L.  c.,  MALONEY 
remains  up  L.  c.  After  they  are  on,  the  MAID 
exits  D.  L.  3  E.  BREWSTER  rises.) 
CAPT.  CLINTON.  (Moving  down  to  L.  c.)  Got 

your  message,  Mr.  Brewster,  and  came  as  soon  as 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE.  63 

2  could — excuse  my  bringing  the  Sergeant  with  me 
— sit  over  there,  Maloney.  (MALONEY  sits  in  chair 
L.  u.  corner)  He'll  keep  his  eyes  open  and  his 
mouth  shut,  so  he  won't  interfere  with  anybody. 
(Sees  the  Doctor;  his  manner  changes  and  he  greets 
him  curtly  and  with  half  a  frown)  How  do, 
Doctor — — 

(BREWSTER  advances  towards  himf  front  of  table, 
and  couteously  invites  him  to  sit.) 

BREWSTER.  Sit  down,  Captain — sit  down — have 
a  cigar.  (The  CAPTAIN  does  so.  BREWSTER  points 
to  humidor  on  table — The  CAPTAIN  declines  with  a 
"  You  can't  bribe  me "  gesture  and  a  smile — and 
sits  chair  L.  of  table — puts  hat  down  on  floor  L.  of 
him — introducing  MR.  JEFFRIES)  This  is  Mr. 
Jeffries,  Senior. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  [Yes — I  know  the  gentleman — • 
how  do,  Sir. 

MR.  JEFFRIES.     (Haughtily)    How  do  you  do. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Now,  Mr.  Brewster,  explode 
your  bomb,  but  I  warn  you  I've  made  up  my  mind. 

BREWSTER.  (R.  of  T.)  Well,  I've  made  up  my 
mind — so  at  least  we  start  even. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.    Yes. 

BREWSTER.  (Sitting  R.  of  T.)  As  I  stated  in  my 
letters,  Captain  Clinton — I  don't  want  to  use  your 
methods  in  this  matter — I  don't  want  to  spread  re 
ports  about  you — or  accuse  you  in  the  papers — 
that's  why  I  asked  you  to  come  over  and  discuss  the 
matter  informally  with  me — I  want  to  give  you  a 
chance  to  change  your  attitude. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.    Don't  want  any  chance. 

BREWSTER.  You  mean  you  don't  want  to  change 
your  attitude. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Well — that's  what  I  mean,  I 
suppose. 

BREWSTER.    In  other  words,  you  have  found  this 


64  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

— this  boy  guilty  and  you  refuse  to  consider  evi 
dence  which  may  tend  to  prove  otherwise 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  'Tain't  my  business  to  consider 
evidence — it's  up  to  the  Prosecuting  Attorney. 

BREWSTER.  It  will  be — but  at  present  it's  up  to 
you. 

(The  CAPTAIN  turns  and  looks  at  MALONEY  as 
much  as  to  say — "  WJiat  do  you  think  of 
that?"-) 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  (Then  back  to  BREWSTER) 
Me? 

BREWSTER.  Yes — you  were  instrumental  in  ob 
taining  a  confession  from  him.  I'm  raising  a  ques 
tion  as  to  the  truth  of  that  confession. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Are  we  going  over  all  that — 
what's  the  use — a  confession  is  a  confession  and 
that  settles  it.  (The  MAID  enters  with  card  and 
comes  to  BPEWSTER  R.)  I  suppose  the  Doctor  has 
been  working  his  pet  theory  off  on  you  and  it's  be 
ginning  to  sprout. 

BREWSTFR.  Yes,  it's  beginning  to  sprout,  Cap 
tain.  Tell  her  to  wait  till  we  are  ready  for  her. 

(SERVANT  exits  D.  L.  3  F.) 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Say,  Mr.  Brewster,  you're  a 
great  constitution  lawyer — the  greatest  in  this  coun 
try—and  I  take  off  my  hat  to  you,  but  I  don't  think 
criminal  law  is  in  your  line. 

BREWSTER.  Well,  I  don't  think  it's  constitutional 
to  take  a  man's  mind  away  from  him  and  substitute 
your  own,  Captain  Clinton. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.    What  do  you  mean? 

BREWSTER.  I  mean  that  instead  of  bringing  out 
of  this  man  his  own  true  thoughts  of  innocence — 
you  have  forced  into  his  consciousness  your  own 
false  thoughts  of  his  guilt. 


JHE  THIRD  DEGREE.  65 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  I  don't  follow  you,  Mr.  Brew- 
ster — better  stick  to  International  law — this  police 
court  work  is  beneath  you. 

BREWSTER.  Perhaps — (Rises  and  goes  down  R.  a 
step  or  two,  turns)  Captain,  will  you  answer  a  few 
questions —  ? 

(CAPTAIN  turns  and  looks  at  MALONEY  in  the  same 
manner.) 

CAPT.  CLINTON.    It  all  depends. 

BREWSTER.  (Over  table  to  him)  If  you  don't 
I'll  ask  them  through  the  medium  of  your  own 
weapon — the  press — only  my  press  will  not  consist 
of  the  one  or  two  yellow  journels  you  inspire — but 
the  independent  dignified  press  of  the  United  States. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Inspire  ?  Mr.  Brewster,  I  don't 
like  the  insinuation. 

BREWSTER.  I  don't  insinuate,  Captain  Clinton — 
I  accuse  you  of  giving  an  untruthful  version  of  this 
matter  to  two  sensational  newspapers  and  these 
papers  have  tried  this  young  man  in  their  columns 
and  found  him  guilty,  thus  prejudicing  the  whole 
community  against  him  before  he  comes  to  trial. 
In  no  other  country  in  the  civilized  world  would 
this  be  tolerated,  but  in  a  country  overburdened 
with  freedom. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  The  early  bird  catches  the  worm 
— they  have  live  reporters  who  asked  me  for  infor 
mation  and  got  it 

BREWSTER.  You  have  so  prejudiced  the  com 
munity  against  him  that  there  is  scarcely  a  man  who 
doesn't  believe  him  guilty.  If  this  matter  ever 
comes  to  trial  how  can  we  get  an  unbiassed  jury? 
and,  added  to  this  foul  injustice,  you  have  branded 
this  young  man's  wife  with  every  stigma  that  can  be 
put  on  womanhood — you  have  hinted  that  she  is  the 
mysterious  woman  who  visited  Underwood  on  the 


66  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

night  of  the  shooting — and  openly  suggested  that 
she  is  the  probable  cause  of  the  crime. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Well,  it's  up  to  you  to  prove 
I'm  wrong. 

BREWSTER.  You  have  besmirched  her  character 
with  stories  of  scandal.  You  have  linked  her  name 
with  that  of  Underwood — the  whole  country  rings 
with  falsities  about  her — and  in  my  opinion,  Cap 
tain  Clinton,  your  direct  object  is  to  destroy  the 
value  of  any  evidence  she  may  give  in  her  husband's 
favor 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Why,  I  haven't  said  a  word 
about  her!  (Turns  to  MALONEY)  Have  I,  huh! 

BREWSTER.  (Picking  up  newspaper  clippings) 
But  these  sensation-mongers  have — and  you  are  the 
only  source  from  which  they  could  obtain  the  infor 
mation. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.    Why — what  do  I  gain? 

BREWSTER.  Advertisement — political  capital — 
these  same  papers  speak  of  you  as  the  greatest 
living  captain — the  greatest  public  official — oh,  you 
know  the  political  value  of  that  sort  of  thing  as  well 
as  I  do. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  I  can't  help  what  they  say  about 
me. 

BREWSTER.  They  might  add  that  you  are  also 
the  richest  man  in  the  department — a  millionaire  on 
a  salary  of  $3,000  a  year — but  I  won't  go  into 
that 

'(DR.  BERNSTEIN  shows  his  appreciation  of  this. 
BREWSTER  sits.) 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  I  don't  like  all  this,  Mr.  Brew- 
ster — 'tain't  fair — I  ain't  on  trial. 

BREWSTER.  No.  More's  the  pity.  (He  picks  up 
paper — the  report  of  the  case — and  reads  it  an  in 
stant)  Captain — in  the  case  of  the  People  against 
Creedon — {Puts  paper  down  on  table)  After  ply- 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE.  67 

ing  him  with  questions  for  six  hours  you  obtained 
a  confession  from  him? 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Yes,  he  told  me — he  set  the 
place  on  fire 

BREWSTER.  Exactly — but  it  afterwards  developed 
that  he  was  never  near  the  place. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.    Well,  he  told  me. 

BREWSTER.  Quite  so,  he  told  you — but  it  turned 
out  that  he  was  mistaken. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.    Yes. 

BREWSTER.  (Taking  up  another  paper)  In  the 
case  of  the  People  against  Bently. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  That  was  Bently's  own  fault — 
I  didn't  ask  him  anything — he  owned  up  himself. 
(Turning  to  MALONEY  as  before)  You  were  there, 
Maloney. 

BREWSTER.    But  you  believed  him  guilty. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.    Yes. 

BREWSTER.  You  though  him  guilty  and  after  a 
fourteen-hour  session  you  impressed  this  thought 
on  his  mind  and  he — he  confessed — (Putting  paper 
down  again) 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  I  didn't  impress  anything— I 
just  simply 

BREWSTER.  You  just  convinced  him  that  he  was 
guilty — though,  as  it  turned  out,  he  was  in  prison 
at  the  time  he  was  supposed  to  have  committed  the 
burglary. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.     (Sullenly)     It  wasn't  burglary. 

BREWSTER.  (Picks  up  first  paper,  looks  at  it) 
Quite  right — Captain — my  mistake — it  was  homicide 
— (Putting  paper  on  table  again)  But  it  was  an  un 
true  confession. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.    Yes. 

BREWSTER.  (Picking  up  next  paper)  It  was 
the  same  thing  in  the  Callahan  case — (Puts  paper 
down,  picking  up  another)  The  People  against 
Tuthill — and  Cosgrove — Tuthill  confessed  and  died 


68  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

in  prison — and  Cosgrove  afterwards  acknowledged 
that  he  and  not  Tuthill  was  the  guilty  man 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Well — mistakes  sometimes  hap 
pen 

BREWSTER.  (Rising  and  facing  him)  That  is 
precisely  the  point  of  view  we  take  in  this  matter — 
Now,  Captain — in  the  present  case,  on  the  night  of 
the  shooting  and  confession,  did  you  show  young 
Mr.  Jeffries — the  pistol  with  which  he  was  supposed 
to  have  shot  Robert  Underwood? 

(DR.  BERNSTEIN  leans  over  table,  keenly  and  in 
terested  waiting  for  the  CAPTAIN'S  reply.) 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Yes — I  think — I  did — didn't  I, 
Maloney?  (Turns  to  MALONEY  as  before) 

BREWSTER.  Your  word  is  sufficient,  Captain — • 
did  you  hold  it  up  ? 

CAPT.  CLINTON.    Yes — I  think  I  did. 

BREWSTER.  Do  you  know  if  there  was  a  light 
shining  on  it 

(DR.  BERNSTEIN  leans  over  a  bit  more  intensely, 
watches  the  CAPTAIN.) 

CAPT.  CLINTON.    Don't  know — might  have  been. 

BREWSTER.  (To  DR.  BERNSTEIN)  Were  there 
electric  lights  on  the  wall? 

DR.  BERNSTEIN.    No,  a  lamp  above. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Oh — what  difference  does  that 
make? 

BREWSTER.  Quite  a  little — the  barrel  of  the  re 
volver  was  bright — shining  steel.  (BREWSTER  is 
very  impressive — drivmg  every  point  home)  From 
the~momejit  that  Howard  Jeffries'  eye  rested  on  the 
shining  steel  barrel  of  that  revolver  he  was  no  longer 
a  conscious  personality — as  he  himself  said  to  his 
wife- — (DR.  BERNSTEIN  resumes  former  position) 
"  They  said  I  did  it— and  I  knew  I  didn't— but  after 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE.  69 

I  looked  at  that  shining  pistol  I  don't  know  what  I 
said  or  did — everything  became  a  blurr  and  a  blank." 
Now,  I  may  tell  you,  Captain,  that  this  condition 
fits  in  every  detail  the  clinical  experiences  of  nerve 
specialists  and  the  medical  experiences  of  the  psy 
chologists.  After  seven  hours  constant  cross-ques 
tioning  while  in  a  semi-dazed  condition — you  im 
pressed  on  him  your  own  ideas,  you  suggested  to 
him  what  he  should  say — you  extracted  from  him, 
not  the  thoughts  that  were  in  his  consciousness  but 
those  that  were  in  your  own;  is  that  the  scientific 
fact,  doctor  ? 

DR.  BERNSTEIN.    Yes. 

BREWSTER.  The  visual  captivation  of  Howard 
Jeffries'  attention  makes  the  whole  case  complete 
and  clear  to  the  physician. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Visual  captivation  is  good! 
(Laughs  ironically  and  turns  to  MALONEY)  What 
do  you  think  of  it,  Maloney  ? 

MALONEY.    Fine. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.    It's  a  new  one,  eh? 

BREWSTER.  It's  a  very  old  one,  Capt.  Clinton,  as 
old  and  as  cruel  as  the  Spanish  Inquisition — In 
those  days  they  extorted  confessions  from  poor  un 
fortunate  suspects  by  means  of  physical  torture. 
Your  third  degree  method  is  mental  torture,  but  it 
certainly  explains  these  other  cases,  doesn't  it? 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  I  don't  know  that  it  does — I 
don't  acknowledge 

BREWSTER.  Captain  Clinton,  whether  you  ac 
knowledge  it  or  not  I  can  prove  that  you  obtained 
these  confessions  by  means  of  hypnotic  suggestion 
— and  that  is  a  greater  crime  against  society  than 
any  the  State  punishes  or  pays  you  to  prevent 

(CAPT.  CLINTON  grabs  cigar  out  of  box,  viciously 
bites  end  off  and  commences  angrily  to  chew 


70  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  I  guess  the  boys  up  at  Ak>any 
can  deal  with  that  question. 

BREWSTER.  The  boys  up  at  Albany  know  as  little 
about  the  laws  of  psychology  as  you  do — (Picks  up 
paper  from  T.  and  goes  down  R.  a  bit — then  to  back 
of  chair  R.  of  table)  This  matter  will  be  dealt  with 
at  Washington 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  (Angrily — rises,  grabbing  hat 
and  throws  cigar  on  table)  I  didn't  come  here  to 
hear  about  that.  You  were  going  to  produce  the 
woman  who  called  on  Underwood  the  night  of  the 
murder — that  was  what  I  came  here  for — not  to  hear 
my  methods  criticised — where  is  she? 

BREWSTER.  One  thing  at  a  time,  Captain — First, 
I  wanted  to — to  show  you  that  we  know  Howard 
Jeffries'  confession  is  untrue  and  now  we'll  take  up 
the  other  question.  (Crosses  to  R.,  rings  electric 
button  on  R.  wall)  This  woman  can  prove  that 
Robert  Underwood  committed  suicide. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  She  can,  eh?  Maybe  she  did 
it  herself — someone  did  it 

(SERVANT  enters  D.  L.  3.) 

BREWSTER.  Yes — someone  did  it — we  agree 
there.  (To  SERVANT)  Ask  Mrs.  Howard  Jeffries, 
Jr.,  to  come  here. 

SERVANT.    Yes  sir.    (Exits  D.  L.  3  E.) 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Mrs.  Howard  Jeffries,  Jr. !  Is 
she  the  one — ha — that's  easy. 

BREWSTER.  She  has  promised  to  produce  the 
missing  witness  to-night. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  She  has,  eh!  (Crosses  up  to 
MALONEY — talks  to  him) 

(BREWSTER  goes  down  R.  a  bit.) 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  (He  has  been  listening  intently — 
followir.g  every  f>!  c'sc  of  the  questioning  with  the 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE.  71; 

greatest  possible  interest — he  now  rises  and  crosses 
to  BREWSTER.)  Is  it  possible — is  it  possible  that 
Underwood  did  this  himself — that  the  poor  boy 
may  have  been  innocent  after  all  ?  Good  God,  what 
a  surprise — I  never  dreamed  of  doubting  his  con 
fession — Brewster,  if  this  is  true,  I  owe  you  a  debt 
of  gratitude — you've  acted  splendidly — -I — I'm 
afraid  I've  been  just  a  trifle  unreasonable 

BREWSTER.    Just  a  trifle. 

DR.  BERNSTEIN.  (Rises,  looks  at  watch,  crosses 
to  L.  as  he  speaks)  You  must  excuse  me,  Mr. 
Brewster — I've  a  very  important  engagement  at  the 
Hospital. 

BREWSTER.  Thank  you  very  much,  Doctor — I 
don't  know  what  I  should  have  done  without  you 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  (Crossing  to  DR.  BERNSTEIN)  I 
thank  you  too,  sir — I'm  greatly  indebted  to  you. 

DR.  BERNSTEIN.  (Shaking  hands  with  MR.  JEF 
FRIES)  Don't  speak  of  it;  good-night,  sir — (Turns 
and  goes  to  D.  L.  3  E.,  turns  laughingly  to  CAPT. 
CLINTON.)  Good-night  Captain — (Exits  D.  L.  3  E.) 

CAPT.  CLINTON.     (Grunts)    Uh! 

r(MR.  JEFFRIES  turns ,  rests  hand  on  chair  L.  of  table) 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  (Going  down  L.)  I  have  no  faith 
in  this  girl  or  her  promises — (Turns  to  mantel ', 
back  to  audience — rests  head  on  mantel) 

'(ANNIE  enters  D.  L.  3  E.  comes  down  to  L.  c.,  a$ 
ANNIE  enters,  JEFFRIES  turns  down  a  bit.) 

BREWSTER.  (R.  of  T.)  Mrs.  Jeffries,  I  want  to 
ask  you  a  few  questions. 

ANNIE.  (L.  c.  looks  around,  a  second  pause) 
May  I  speak  to  you  alone,  Mr.  Brewster  ? 

BREWSTER.     Certainly. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  (Coming  down  to  back  of  table) 
One  moment — if  this  is  all  open  and  aboveboard,  as 


72  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

you  say  it  is,  Mr.  Brewster — I'd  like  to  ask  the 
young  lady  a  few  questions  myself. 

BREWSTER.     Certainly. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  (To  ANNIE)  You  promised 
Mr.  Brewster  you'd  produce  the  woman  who  called 
at  Underwood's  apartment  the  night  of  the — of  the 
shooting —  (Pause — ANNIE  doesn't  repty — the 
CAPTAIN  then  sarcastically  says:)  The  witness 
wants  instructions,  Mr.  Brewster. 

BREWSTER.  You  can  be  perfectly  frank,  Mrs. 
Jeffries — we  have  no  desire  to  conceal  anything 
from  Capt.  Clinton. 

ANNIE.  Yes,  I  promised  Mr.  Brewster  she'd 
pome  to-night. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.    Did  she  promise  you? 

ANNIE.    Yes. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.    Well — where  is  she? 

ANNIE.  She  hasn't  come  yet — but  she  will — I'm 
sure — I  know  she  will. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.    How  did  you  come  to  find  her? 

ANNIE.  (Looks  at  JEFFRIES,  SR.,  then  at  BREW 
STER)  That  I — I  cannot  say — now 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Decline  to  answer,  eh — what's 
her  name? 

ANNIE.    I — (Pause) 

CAPT.  CLINTON.    What's  her  name? 

ANNIE.    I  cannot  tell  you. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.    Do  you  know  it  ? 

ANNIE.    Yes 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Know  it,  but  you  won't  say — 
hum. 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  But  you  must  speak — you  know 
what  it  means — do  you  realize  that  my  son's  life  is 
at  stake? 

ANNIE.  Yes.  And  I'm  glad  to  see  that  you're 
beginning  to  realize  it,  too.  But  I — I  can't  tell  you 
yet. 

BREWSTER.  (To  ANNIE)  I  think  you  had  better 
itell  us — I  see  no  advantage  in  concealing  it. 


JHE  THIRD  DEGREE.  73 

ANNIE.  (After  pause)  She  will  tell  you  herself 
when  she  comes 

MR.  JEFFRIES.    Ha — I  thought  as  muclj! 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Well,  when  she  does  come — she 
will  be  taken  to  headquarters  and  held  as  a  witness. 

BREWSTER.    Arrested. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  That's  what  I  said,  Mr.  Brew- 
ster — she's  a  material  witness — the  most  important 
one  the  State  has  got — and  I  don't  intend  that  she 
shall  get  away. 

ANNIE.  (Crossing  to  BREWSTER)  Arrest  her — 
Oh,  Mr.  Brewster 

BREWSTER.  She  is  coming  to  my  house  of  her 
own  free  will — she  has  trusted  to  my  honor 

ANNIE.    Yes — Yes. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Honor  cuts  mighty  little  ice  in 
the  matter,  Mr.  Brewster,  I  shall  hold  her 

BREWSTER..  (Crossing  to  back  of  table,  around 
armchair.  ANNIE  sits  down  in  it  a  little,  same  time.) 
I  will  not  permit  such  a  disgraceful  proceeding. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  With  all  due  respect,  Mr.  Brew 
ster,  you  won't  be  consulted — You  have  declared 
yourself  counsel  for  the  man  who  has  been  indicted 
for  murder — I  didn't  ask  you  to  take  me  into  your 
confidence — you  invited  me  here — treated  me  to  a 
lecture  on  psychology  for  which  I  thank  you  very 
much — but  I  don't  feel  that  I  need  any  further  in 
structions — if  this  woman  ever  does  get  here — the 
moment  she  leaves  the  house  Maloney  has  instruc 
tions  to  arrest  her,  but  I  guess  we  needn't  worry 
very  much — she  has  probably  forgotten  her  ap 
pointment.  (With  a  leer  at  ANNIE)  Some  people 
are  very  careless  in  that  respect — well,  if  it's  all 
the  same  to  you — I'll  wait  downstairs,  Mr.  Brew 
ster — Gentlemen — see  you  latter — (Turns,  goes  up 
and  exits  D.  L.  3  E.) 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  I  told  you  what  it  would  be — a 
flash  in  the  pan — (Looks  at  ANNIE — seating  him 
self  at  chair  at  fireplace) 


74  THE  JHIRD  DEGREE. 

BREWSTER.     (To  ANNIE)     You  are  sure? 

ANNIE.  (Coming  anxiously  to  R.  of  table  and 
half  leans  over  it)  Yes,  I  am  sure — Oh,  Mr.  Brew- 
ster — don't  let  them  arrest  her 

BREWSTER.    Who  is  it? 

ANNIE.  (Looking  at  HOWARD  JEFFRIES)  I  can't 
tell  you  just  now — she'll  be  here  soon. 

BREWSTER.    Tell  me  now 

ANNIE.  (Turning  away)  Please — please  don't 
aske  me. 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  (Angrily  jumping  to  his  feet)  As 
I  told  you,  Mr.  Brewster,  her  whole  story  is  a  fabri 
cation  trumped  up  for  the  purpose  of — of — God 
knows  what  object  she  has  in  deceiving  us,  I  don't 
— I  only  know  that  I  warned  you  what  you  might 
expect — what  you  always  may  expect  from  people 
of  her  class. 

BREWSTER.  (Coming  down  to  JEFFRIES)  Will 
you  go  into  my  study  for  a  few  moments — Mr. 
Jeffries — Let  me  speak  to  her  alone,  I'll  find  out — 
(Turns  toward  R.  then  stands  back  to  audience.) 

MR.  JEFFRIES.  I  am  going  home — I  have  had  a 
most  painful  evening — most  painful — let  me  know 
the  result  of  your  investigation  as  soon  as  possible. 
(Goes  up  to  D.  L.  3  E.,  when  there,  speaks)  Brew 
ster,  I  may  not  show  it,  but  I'm  anxious — more 
anxious  than  you  can  possibly  believe.  Good-night 
• — (Exits  D.  L.  3  E.) 

BREWSTER.  (L.  c.,  turns  severely  to  ANNIE)  Do 
you  want  me  to  lose  all  faith  in  you  ? 

ANNIE.    No,  Mr.  Brewster 

BREWSTER.  Then  tell  me  why  you  conceal — this 
woman's  name. 

ANNIE.  (Advancing  to  him  a  step  or  two) 
Because  I  don't  want  to  be  the  one  to — to — to  ex 
pose  her. 

BREWSTER.  (Advancing  'to  her)  Yes,  but  in  the 
meantime  you — are  casting  suspicion  on  yourself 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE.  75 

— your  father-in-law  fully  believes  that  it  was  you, 
and  Captain  Clinton  suspects— 

ANNIE.  I  don't  care  what  any  one  thinks,  as 
long  as  you  don't — (Turns  away  to  R.  a  bit) 

BREWSTER.  Candidly — I  don't  know — what  to 
think — I  want  to  think  the  very  best  of  you,  Annie — 
but  you  won't  let  me 

ANNIE.  (Going  to  him)  I  suppose  I'd  better  tell 
you  and  have  done  with  it — but  I  don't  like  to 

(SERVANT  enters  D.  L.  with  a  card  which  he  hands 
to  BREWSTER — ANNIE  is  about  to  tell  BREW 
STER.  When  she  sees  SERVANT,  she  stops 
abruptly  and  goes  to  R.) 

SERVANT.    She  wants  to  see  you  at  once 

BREWSTER.  To  see  me — are  you  sure  she  hasn't 
come  for  Mr.  Jeffries? 

SERVANT.     No,  sir — she  was  quite  positive 

ANNIE.  (Coming  to  him  anxiously)  It's — Mrs. 
Jeffries 

BREWSTER.    Yes 

ANNIE.  Will  you  let  me  see  her,  Mr.  Brewster — • 
I'll  tell  her  who  it  is  and  she  can  tell  you — she's 
— she's  a  woman  and  I'd  rather — let  me  speak  to 
her,  please — please. 

BREWSTER.  (Looks  at  her  intently  a  moment, 
then  speaks  to  SERVANT.)  Ask  Mrs.  Jeffries  to  come 
up.  (SERVANT  exits  D.  L.  3  E.  BREWSTER  looks  at 
ANNIE  a  moment,  crosses  to  R.,  turns  and  speaks) 
I  am  free  to  confess  that  I  don't  understand  you — 
and  I  am  more  than  disappointed  in  your  failure  to 
keep  your  word — you  promised  definitely  that  you 
would  bring1  this  witness  here — on  the  strength  of 
which  promise  I  made  statements  to  Capt.  Clinton 
that  I  have  not  been  able  to  substantiate.  (  Crossing 
to  door  R.  3  E.  opens  it — his  hand  on  the  knob)\ 
The  whole  story  looks  like  an  invention  on  our  part 
^-(As  BREWSTER  Crosses  to  R.  ANNIE  follows.) 


76  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

ANNIE.  It's  not  an  invention — ah,  Mr.  Brewster 
just  a  little  while  longer — you've  been  so  kind — so 
patient 

BREWSTER.  I  believed  you  implicitly — (He  opens 
the  door  again,  following  her)  You  were  so  posi 
tive  this  woman  would  come  forward 

ANNIE.  She  will — she  will — give  me — only — a 
few  minutes 

BREWSTER.  (Questioningly)  A  few  minutes? 
(Looks  at  her  a  moment — then  shakes  his  head.) 
Well,  it's  infectious — I  believe  you  again.  (He 
opens  door  and  exits  D.  R.  3  E.) 

(ANNIE  pauses  an  instant,  goes  to  R.  of  table  and 
just  as  she  lays  down  muff  and  bag,  MRS. 
HOWARD  JEFFRIES,  SR.,  appears  in  doorway  L. 
3  E.  They  see  each  other — ANNIE  perfectly 
motionless — MRS.  JEFFRIES  is  perceptibly  ag 
itated.  She  enters  and  as  she  passes  couch  in 
front  of  fireplace  she  throws  her  wrap  over  it 
and  comes  to  chair  L.  of  table — in  her  hand 
wrapped  in  a  kerchief  she  carries  UNDER 
WOOD'S  letter.) 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  (As  she  crosses  to  chair)  Have 
you  told  Mr.  Brewster  ? 

ANNIE.  No — I  tried  to,  but  I  couldn't — I  was 
afraid  you  weren't  coming 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  I  went  to  say  good-bye  to  my 
mother. 

ANNIE.     To  say  good-bye? 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  I  have  said  good-bye  to  her — 
(She  sits  in  chair.  L.  of  table)  I  have  said  good-bye 
to  everybody — to  everything — to  myself. 

ANNIE.    Oh,  it  isn't  as  bad  as  that,  surely? 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  Oh,  I've  reckoned  it  all  out — it's 
loss — a  total  loss — husband — position — good  name — 
all  will  go — you'll  see — I  shall  be  torn  into  little 
bits  of  shreds — they  won't  leave  anything  unsaid, 


JHE  THIRD  DEGREE.  77 

^ 

but  it's  not  that  I  care  for  so  much — it's  the  in 
justice  of  it  all — of  the  power  of  evil — this  man 
Underwood — never  did  a  good  action  in  all  his  life — 
and  now  even  after  he  is  dead — he  has  the  power 
to  go  on  destroying — destroying — 

ANNIE.  He  was  no  good,  that  fellow — (Goes 
around  R.  H.  back  of  T  near  MRS.  JEFFRIES.) 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  I  haven't  even  the  ambition  to 
defend  myself — it's  Mr.  Jeffries  who  will  suffer • 

ANNIE.  I  wouldn't  lose  any  sleep  on  his  account. 
(Pauses — sympathetically)  But  surely  he  won't 
believe  it. 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  If  the  circumstances  were  only 
less  disgraceful — (Takes  out  UNDERWOOD'S  letter.) 
A  suicide's  last  letter  to  the  woman  he  loved — they'll 
say  I  drove  him  to  do  it — they  won't  think  of — his 
miserable  dishonest  career — they'll  only  think  of  my 
share  in  his  death 

ANNIE.  It's  tough,  isn't  it  ?  And  the  worst  of  it 
is  they're  going  to  arrest  you 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  (Jumping  to  her  feet  in  terror) 
Arrest  me?  Put  me  in  prison?  What  for,  Annie? 

ANNIE.  That's  what  Captain  Clinton  says — he 
was  here — he's  here  now — with  two  men  waiting 
for  you  downstairs — he's  afraid  you'll  run  away  or 
something. 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  But  he  doesn't  know  who  I  am — 
(Sinks  into  chair  L.  of  table) 

ANNIE.  No,  I  didn't  tell  them,  I  said  you'd  tell 
'em  yourself,  but  they  won't  trust  you  when  they 
know  who  you  are — let's  tell  Mr.  Brewster — he  may 
think  of  a  plan — suppose  you  go  away  until — this 
is  awful — awful — (Looks  at  MRS.  JEFFRIES,  sees 
that  she  is  helpless)  It  stuns  a  person — don't  it? 
You  can't  think  when  it  comes  like  this — it's  just 
the  way  I  felt  the  morning  they  showed  me  How 
ard's  confession. 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.    Prison — prison. 


78  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

ANNIE.  Not  for  long — you  can  get  bail — Mr. 
Brewster  would  get  you  out  right  away. 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  (Must  pick  up  cue  quickly  to 
prevent  a  laugh — jumping  to  her  feet)  My  God, 
I  can't — I  can't — Oh,  that's  too  much — I've  done 
nothing — nothing — look — (Shows  letter).  You  can 
see  for  yourself — the  wretch  wrote  me — wrote  me — • 
frightened  me  into  such  a  state  of  mind  that  I  hardly 
knew  what  I  was  doing — and  I  went — to  try  to 
prevent  him — that's  all — Annie,  that's  all,  but  do  you 
suppose  that  anyone  will  believe  it?  (Breaks  down 
• — falls  weeping  into  chair  L.  of  T.  The  letter  is  in 
her  R.  hand,  her  head  buried  in  her  arms) 

ANNIE.  (Comforting  her)  Hush — don't — don't 
give  way — be  brave — it  will  save  Howard — let  me 
see  the  letter — (MRS.  JEFFRIES  hands  it  to  her  with 
out  moving — ANNIE  takes  it> — wiping  away  a  tear) 
I'm  crying  myself.  (She  takes  letter  from  envelope 
and  reads)  "  Dear  Mrs.  Jeffries — This  is  the  last 
time  I  shall  ever  burden  you  with  my  presence  or 
bore  you  with  my  letters.  You  have  forbidden  me 
to  see  you  again — you  have  sentenced  me  to  a  living 
death — but  as  I  prefer  death,  shall  not  be  partial — 
but  full  and  complete  oblivion,  I  take  this  means  of 
letting  you  know  that  unless  you  revoke  your  cruel 
sentence  I  will  make  an  end  of  it  all — I  shall  be 
found  dead  to-morrow  morning — and  you  will  know 
who  is  the  real  cause — Your  devoted  slave,  Robert 
Underwood."  (Pause,  looks  at  her)  This  is  great 
for  Howard — I'm  glad  you  didn't  destroy  it — 
(ANNIE  comes  around  to  MRS.  JEFFRIES  L.)  But 
what  a  mean  hound  to  write  things  like  that — these 
kind  of  fellows  breed  trouble,  don't  they?  Alive  or 
dead,  they  breed  trouble.  (Sighs)  Well — what  are 
we  to  do? 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  (Rising — looking  to  front  deter 
minedly)  Howard  must  be  cleared — of  course — 
and  I  must  face  it — alone 

ANNIE.    Yes,  you'll  be  alone  all  right — Mr.  Jef- 


JHE  THIRD  DEGREE.  79 

fries  will  do  about  as  much  for  you  as  he  did  for 
his  son — just  watch  him. 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  (Turning  to  her  appealingly) 
You  do  him  an  injustice,  Annie. 

ANNIE.  Well — maybe — Honest  to  God  I'm  heart 
broken.  (Goes  to  her  sympathetically)  I'd  do  any 
thing  to  save  you  from  this — this  public  disgrace. 
(Indicating  letter) 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  Yes — I  realize  that,  but  the  dis 
grace  of  arrest — (Rising  frantically)  I  can't, 
Annie — I  can't  go  to  prison,  even  if  it's  only  for  a 
moment — give  me  that  letter — (Reaches  for  letter — 
ANNIE  puts  it  behind  her  in  her  L.  hand  and  retreats 
to  L.  MRS.  JEFFRIES  follows  frantically  appealing 
for  it,  through  her  speech  ANNIE  says  "  no — no  " — 
finally  at  cue  "  Hoiv  can  I")  I'll  leave  New  York 
to-night — I'll  go  to  Europe — send  it  from  Paris — 
you'll  trust  me  to  do  that,  won't  you?  Give  it  to 
me,  Annie.  (Reaches  out  for  letter)  Please — 
please  trust  me. 

ANNIE.  (Withholding  letter— MRS.  JEFFRIES  ap 
pealing)  No — no — How  can  I? 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  (Still  appealing)  Please — please 
do.  You  can  tell  them  when  I'm  out  of  the  country 
• — don't  ask  me  to  make  this  sacrifice  now — don't 
ask  me — don't.  (Breaks  down  on  ANNIE) 

ANNIE.  (Determinedly)  No — you've  lost  your 
nerve  now — you  don't  know  what  you're  saying — • 
(Crossing  R.,  speaking  as  she  goes)  Howard's  life 
comes  before  you — me — everybody — you  know  that. 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  (Going  to  ANNIE)  Yes — yes — 
I  know  that.  I'm — I'm  only  asking  you  to  wait — I 
— I  ought  to  have  left  New  York  this  morning — 
that's  what  I  should  have  done — gone  at  once — 
now — it's  too  late — unless  you  help  me.  (Clinging 
to  ANNIE) 

ANNIE.  I'll  help  you  all  I  can — but  I — I've 
promised  Mr.  Brewster  to — to — clear  the  matter  up 
to-night. 


8o  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  (Speaks  outside)  Tell  him  to 
wait  outside,  Maloney. 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.  (Terror-stricken,  clings  to 
ANNIE)  Annie 

ANNIE.     (Grasping  her  hand)    Hush! 

(CAPT.  CLINTON  enters  D.  i.  3  E.  coming  down  L.  c.)' 

CAPT.  CLINTON  Oh,  excuse  me — I  thought  Mr. 
Brewster  was  here 

ANNIE.    He'll  be  here  in  a  moment 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Well,  is  this  your  mysterious 
witness  ? 

ANNIE.  (Crossing  to  c.  as  she  does  so — MRS. 
JEFFRIES  gets  to  chair)  This  is  Mrs.  Howard  Jef 
fries,  Senior,  my  husband's  mother 

(MRS.  JEFFRIES  sits.) 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon,  Madam, 
I  wanted  to  tell  Mr.  Brewster  I  was  going — (To 
ANNIE)  Well,  you  might  as  well  own  up,  you've 
played  a  trick  on  us — (Laughs)  You've  played  a 
trick  on  all  of  us. 

ANNIE.  No,  Captain,  I  told  you  the  simple  truth 
and  naturally  you  don't  believe  it 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  The  simple  truth  may  do  for 
Mr.  Brewster — but  it  won't  do  for  me — I  never  ex 
pected  this  mysterious  witness  to  make  an  appearance 
— and  why  not  ?  Because,  begging  your  pardon  for 
doubting  your  word,  there's  no  such  a  person. 

ANNIE.  And  begging  your  pardon  for  disputing 
your  words,  there  is  such  a  person.  (Crossing  to  R.) 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Then  where  is  she? — I'll  tell 
you  where  she  is — she's  right  here 

(BREWSTER  enters  D.  R.  3  E.  and  goes  to  back  of  T. — 
Positions.    ANNIE  down  R.  c.    BREWSTER  back 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE.  81 

of  T.    MRS.  JEFFRIES  in  chair  R.  of  T.    CAPT. 
CLINTON  L.  of  T.) 

You  knew  the  men  when  they  were  at  college — You 
knew  Underwood  before  you  knew  young  Jeffries — 
It  was  Underwood  who  introduced  you  to  your  hus 
band — it  was  Underwood  who  aroused  your  hus 
band's  jealousy — you  went  to  his  rooms  that  night — 
your  husband  followed  you  there — and  the  shooting 
took  place — false  confession,  eh?  Hypnotism,  eh — 
well,  I  guess  it's  International  law  for  yours  after 
this,  Mr.  Brewster. 
ANNIE.  Is  that  so? 

BREWSTER.  (To  ANNIE)  Please  say  nothing — 
MRS.  JEFFRIES.  (  Who  has  been  sitting  in  chair  R. 
of  table,  hopelessly  crushed,  rouses  herself  to  quiet 
resignation  and  determination — BREWSTER  goes  to 
back  of  chair  L.  of  table)  Annie,  the  truth  must 
come  out  sooner  or  later — Give  Captain  Clinton  the 
letter — now — (ANNIE  hesitates)  Please 

(ANNIE  pauses,  crosses  slowly  to  c.  and  hands 
CAPT.  CLINTON  the  letter.  He  is  about  to  take 
it,  when  BREWSTER  places  restraining  hand  on 
his  arm  and  takes  it.) 

BREWSTER.  Excuse  me,  she  is  my  client — I'll  take 
care  of  her — (ANNIE  is  a  little  to  c.  CAPT.  CLINTON 
to  L.  BREWSTER  opens  letter  and  reads)  "  Dear 
Mrs.  Jeffries— this  is  the  last  time  I  shall  burden 
you  with  my  presence — (Pauses  as  he  reads  letter — 
silently)  I  will  make  an  end  of  it  all — I  shall  be 
be  found  dead  to-morrow  morning."  (Pause) 
Suicide— "  Robert  Underwood—"  (To  CAPTAIN 
CLINTON  pointing  to  letter) 

CAPT.  CLINTON.     Suicide — oh,  that's  probably  a 

forgery 

^  BREWSTER.     If  it  is  a  forgery  it  will  be  a  very 
simple  matter  for  you  to  prove  it 


82  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  Oh,  we'll  take  care  of  that  later 
on — Mrs.  Jeffries — (She  slowly  rises)  I'll  trouble 
you  to  go  with  me  to  headquarters 

[(MRS.  JEFFRIES,  as  if  in  obedience  to  his  command, 
takes  a  step  toward  him — she  is  restrained  by 
ANNIE,  who  catches  her  hand — this  movement 
is  not  seen  by  CAPTAIN  CLINTON  or  BREWSTER.) 

BREWSTER.  Mrs.  Jeffries  will  not  go  with 
you — she  has  made  no  attempt  to  leave  the  state. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.    She's  wanted  at  headquarters — 

BREWSTER.     She'll  be  there  to-morrow  morning. 

CAPT.  CLINTON.  She'll  be  there  to-night — the 
moment  she  attempts  to  leave  the  house,  I  shall 
arrest  her — Good-night,  Mr.  Brewster — (Goes  to 
door  L.  3  E.  turns  to  ANNIE)  I'll  be  waiting  for  you 
downstairs,  Mrs.  Jeffries — (Exits  D.  L.  3  E.) 

[(As  CAPTAIN  CLINTON  goes  up,  BREWSTER  makes 
the  discovery  that  the  letter  is  addressed  to 
MRS.  JEFFRIES,  SR.,  at  CAPTAIN  CLINTON'S 
exit — he  gives  a  cry  and  turns  to  ANNIE.) 

BREWSTER.  \To  ANNIE)  You  are  not  the 
woman  to  whom  this  Underwood  letter  was  ad 
dressed — (ANNIE  doesn't  answer)  I'm  your 
counsel — you  must  tell  me  the  truth — is  it  your  in 
tention  to  go  on  the  witness  stand  and  commit 
perjury — is  it  ?  Answer  me. 

ANNIE.    Commit  perjury? 

BREWSTER.  (Turning  to  MRS.  JEFFRIES,  SR.) 
And  is  it  your  intention  to  allow  her  to  do  so  ? 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.    No — no. 

BREWSTER.  (Holding  out  envelope  to  her)  This 
letter  is  addressed  to  you — at  your  5th  Avenue  home 
( — and  is  intended  for  you  ? 

MRS.  JEFFRIES.    Yes 

BREWSTER.    Then  I  repeat,  is  it  your^  intention  to 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE.  83 

perjure  yourself — (ANNIE  does  not  reply)  But  let 
me  ask  you — do  you  expect  me,  as  your  counsel,  to 
become  particips  criminis  to  this  tissue  of  lies — am 
I  expected  to  build  up  a  false  structure  for  you  to 
swear  to  ?  Am  I  ?  Answer  me,  am  I  ? 

ANNIE.  I  don't  know — I  hadn't  thought  of  it — 
(Then  realising  the  advantage  to  her  husband,  she 
crosses  to  chair  L.  of  T.)  If  it  can  be  done,  why  not  ? 
It's  a  good  idea — I'm  glad  you  suggested  it — every 
body  says  I'm  the  woman  who  called  on  Robert 
Underwood  that  night — Well — that's  all  right — let 
them  think  so — what  difference  does  it  make  as  long 
as  Howard  goes  free?  (Turns  and  goes  quickly 
up  to  door  L.  3  E.  BREWSTER  speaks  as  she  goes  up) 

BREWSTER.  Don't  go,  Annie.  Captain  Clinton's 
waiting  outside 

ANNIE.  (Turning  to  door)  I  wouldn't  keep 
Captain  Clinton  waiting  for  the  world.  Good-night, 
Mr.  Brewster — God  bless  you — (Exits  quickly,  door 

L.  3  E.) 

BREWSTER.    Annie ! 

(As  curtain  is  falling  MRS.  JEFFRIES'  knees  sink  from 
under  her,  and  she  slowly  falls  on  stage,  arms 
and  head  resting  on  table.) 

CURTAIN. 


84  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 


ACT  IV. 

SCENE: — Dining  room  of  flat  occupied  by  MR.  and 
MRS.  HOWARD  JEFFRIES,  JR.  It  is  a  plain  un 
pretentious  $40  a  month  flat  in  Harlem.  On  the 
L.,  archway  with  portieres  drawn  back,  and 
lambrequin  of  plain  (or  creton)  material,  show 
ing  kitchen  beyond.  In  plain  view  against  back 
ing,  as  shown,  the  usual  wash  tubs  and  sink. 
The  wash  tubs  are  covered  with  oil  cloth.  On 
a  shelf  above  the  tubs  is  a  shelf,  on  which  an 
assortment  of  cannisters  and  caddies  marked 
"sugar,"  "tea"  "coffee"  "salt",  etc.,  and  a 
clock;  on  the  wash  stand  some  bottles  of  condi 
ments  and  sauces — and  a  coffee  mill.  Obliquely 
across  jog  of  alcove  up  c.  and  arch  piece,  is  set 
of  china  closet,  with  glass  front,  containing  an 
assortment  of  chinaware,  plain  and  fancy, 
enough  to  fill  the  shelves  of  the  closet.  On  the 
top,  some  cut  glass  and  two  handsome  beer 
steins,  up  L.  c.  is  a  square  alcove,  two  3  foot  jogs 
and  solid  door  leading  to  the  bed  room — directly 
behind  this  door  is  a  dressing  table  or  bureau 
on  which  are  toilet  articles,  neckties,  and  a  soiled 
collar  or  two;  against  fiat  up  R.  c.  is  a  buffet 
which  must  be  tastefully  dressed  with  buffet 
scarf  and  doilies,  cut  glass,  silver  tray;  and  tea 
and  coffee  pot,  cream  jug,  sugar,  bowl,  etc.  In 
the  drawer  is  a  table  cloth  of  dark  red  material 
and  two  napkins.  At  rise,  there  must  be  a 
buffet,  2  knives  and  forks — 2  teaspoons,  one 
large  knife,  crumb  tray  and  brush,  two  cups  and 
saucers  and  2  butter  plates.  In  the  corner  be 
tween  door  which  is  set  obliquely  down  R.  is  a 
clothes  tree,  on  which  are  hanging  a  rain  coat, 
overcoat,  and  HOWARD  JEFFRIES,  JR'S.,  hat. 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE.  85 

Against  jog  which  runs  off  at  R.  angle  from  door 
piece,  a  steam  radiator,  above  this,  against  wall, 
is  a  hanging  book-shelf  filled  with  novels  and 
magazines;  in  the  corner  is  a  silver-handled 
cane;  before  window  at  R.  an  ordinary  couch. 
The  window  is  draped  with  lace  curtains,  and 
red  curtains  on  each  side.  There  are  carpet 
rugs  before  couch,  door  R.  3  E.,  door  up  c.  and 
before  kitchen.  Ground  cloth  down,  over  which 
is  a  small  medallion  to  match  the  environment. 
In  the  c.  is  the  dining  table  covered  with  clean 
white  table  cloth.  Dining  room  chairs  at  each 
side  of  it,  and  back  of  it,  also  one  against  flat 
L.  below  kitchen.  In  kitchen,  prepared  to  be\ 
taken  on,  is  a  black  dish  tray  on  which  are  two 
plates,  a  plate  of  rolls,  a  butter  plate  with  butter, 
a  pot  of  hot  coffee  and  a  plate  with  3  or  4  slices 
of  cooked  bacon — also  a  hot  iron  plate  and  a 
pot  of  cold  water  to  obtain  boiled-over  milk 
effect. 

'NOTE:— This  plate  must  be  kept  hot,  so  that  when 
the  water  is  poured  on  it,  the  hissing  sound  is 
distinctly  heard — and  the  steam  seen  by  the 
audience. 

DISCOVERED :— At  rise,  ANNIE  is  discovered  at 
buffet,  back  to  audience,  as  if  preparing  to  lay 
table  for  breakfast.  She  turns  and  brings  with 
her  two  knives  and  forks  and  2  teaspoons,  and 
lays  them,  one  set  at  L.  of  T.,  one  set  at  back; 
goes  back  stops  an  instant  to  listen  at  door  up 
c.  (but  does  not  go  to  it)  then  goes  up,  gets 
cream  jug  and  sugar  bowl  containing  milk  and 
sugar,  sets  them  on  table,  goes  up  c.  a  bit — 
listens — then  goes  softly  on  toes  (not  tip-toe 
ing}  tozvard  kitchen.  When  within  3  feet  of 
kitchen,  door-bell  in  kitchen  rings.  She  turns, 
goes  to  door  R.  opens  it  and  sees  DR.  BERN 
STEIN,  who  steps  into  room. 


86  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

ANNIE.  Oh,  good-morning,  Dr.  Bernstein.  (She 
closes  door  and  gets  L.  a  step  or  two) 

DR.  BERNSTEIN.  Good-morning,  Mrs.  Jeffries — 
Well,  how  is  our  patient  this  morning? 

ANNIE.  All  right,  Doctor — he  had  a  splendid 
night's  rest — I'll  call  him.  (She  starts  for  door  c.) 

DR.  BERNSTEIN.  Never  mind — (She  stops)  I 
want  to  talk  to  you — May  I  ? — (Bus.  ANNIE  pauses 
as  if  uncertain — coming  down  to  L.  of  T.  the  DOCTOS 
grins.  DR.  BERNSTEIN  twice  comes  down  to  R.  of  T, 
removing  gloves  and  both  seat  themselves  through 
follozving  speech)  Thank  you,  Mrs.  Jeffries — your 
husband  needs  a  change  of  scenery — he's  worrying 
— that  fainting  spell  last  night  was  only  a  symptom 
• — I'm  afraid  he'll  break  down — unless — unless 

ANNIE.  Unless  what?  (Hot  milk  effect  off^  in 
kitchen  L.  She  jumps  to  her  feet  and  rushes  into 
kitchen)  Oh,  Lord — the  milk  is  boiling  over — ex 
cuse  me.  (She  waits  in  kitchen  a  moment;  the  his 
sing  and  steam  stops — she  re-enters  taking  off  her 
apron  and  throwing  it  over  back  of  chair  L.  Then 
comes  toward  DOCTOR,  almost  back  of  table)  So 
that's  what's  the  matter? 

DR.  BERNSTEIN.  Mrs.  Jeffries!  Your  husband 
is  under  a  deep  mental  strain — his  inability  to  sup 
port  you — his  inability  to  occupy  his  position  in  the 
social  world  is  mental  torture — I  was  talking  to  his 
father  last  night  and 

ANNIE.    And — (Draws  herself  up) 

DR.  BERNSTEIN.  (Leaning  over  T.  to  her)  Now 
don't  regard  me  as  an  enemy  because  Mr.  Jeffries 
enquired  after  his  son — believe  me,  he's  very  anx 
ious — he  knows  he  did  the  boy  a  great  injustice  and 
he  wants  to  make  up  for  it. 

ANNIE.  How  does  he  propose  to  do  it?  (She 
moves  up  to  c.  a  bit) 

DR.  BERNSTEIN.  (Pauses,  as  if  he  didn't  like  his 
mission  to  suggest  it;  looks  front)  Suppose  your 


JHE  THIRD  DEGREE.  87 

husband  went  abroad  for — a  few  months  with  his 
father  and  mother? 

ANNIE.  (Coming  back  to  L.  u.  end  of  table  with 
sugar  bozvl  which  she  puts  on  T.)  Is  that  the 
proposition  ? 

DR.  BERNSETIN.  (Looking  up  at  her)  I  believe 
Mr.  Jeffries  has  spoken  to  his  son. 

ANNIE.  He  wants  to  separate  us.  (She  moves 
down  to  L.  of  T.  and  seats  herself)  Well,  perhaps 
he's  not  altogether  wrong — things  look  pretty  black 
for  me,  don't  they — everybody  believes  that  my 
going  to  see  Underwood  that  night  had  something  to 
do  with  his  suicide  and  led  to  my  husband  being 
falsely  accused.  The  police  built  up  a  fine  romance 
about  him  and  the  papers  were — the  limit — and 
they're  not  through  yet — If  everybody  would  let  us 
alone  he  might  forget.  (DR.  BERNSTEIN  makes  a 
depreciating  gesture  leaning  over  table,  as  much  as 
to  say  "You  don't  think  If"}  I  don't  mean  you, 
Dr.  Bernstein,  you're  my  friend.  (She  holds  out 
hand  and  he  takes  it)  You  and  Mr.  Brewster 
settled  Captain  Clinton  and  that  false  confession — I 
mean,  people — outsiders — strangers — who  don't 
know  us.  (They  release  hands,  he  turns  front 
again)  and  don't  care  whether  we're  alive  or  dead — 
they  buy  a  one-cent  paper  and  they  think  that  it 
gives  them  a  right  to  pry  into  every  little  detail  of 
our  lives.  And  so  you  think  he  is  under  a  mental 
strain?  (DR.  BERNSTEIN  nods  "yes")  Well,  I 
think  so,  too — I  thought  it  was  because  of  the  letter 
that  Mr.  Underwood  wrote  me — but  I  guess  it's  this 
life — his  old  friends  won't  have  anything  to  do  with 
him  and — he's  lonely.  (Rises  and  goes  up  L.  a  step 
or  two)  Well,  I'll  talk  it  over  with  Howard — 
(Pause)  Seen  Mr.  Brewster  lately? 

DR.  BERNSTEIN.  No!  Not  since  he  sailed  for 
Europe. 

ANNIE    He's  a  fine  man,  isn't  he? 


88  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

DR.  BERNSTEIN.  Yes — yes!  (Rising  and  going 
R.  a  bit)  Well,  you  see  Howard  and 

ANNIE.  (Turning  to  him)  Did  you  promise 
his  father  you'd  ask  me  ? 

DR.  BERNSTEIN.    No — no — not  exactly 

ANNIE.  Howard's  a  pretty  good  fellow  to  stand 
by  me  in  the  face  of  all  that's  being  said  about  my 
character,  isn't  he?  (DR.  BERNSTEIN  nods  "yes") 
And  I'm  not  going  to  stand  in  his  light,  Dr.  Bern 
stein — even  if  it  don't  exactly  make  me  the  happiest 
woman  in  the  world — (Enter  HOWARD  D.  c.,  comes 
down  to  her  takes  her  in  his  arms)  Hello,  Howard 
— did  you  wake  up?  Dr.  Bernstein  didn't  like  to 
disturb  you — so  we  just  talked— excuse  me  a 
moment — (Exits  into  kitchen) 

HOWARD.  (Coming  down  to  DR.  BERNSTEIN,  who 
advances  to  meet  him)  How  do,  Doctor?  (They 
shake  hands) 

DR.  BERNSTEIN.  How  do  you  do  ?  How  do  you 
feel ?  (Takes  out  his  watch  and  feels  pulse,  looking 
at  him  keenly} 

HOWARD.  First  rate — I'm  all  right — what's  all 
this  anxiety  about  me? 

DR.  BERNSTEIN.    How  did  you  sleep  ? 

HOWARD.    First  rate. 

DR.  BERNSTEIN.    Dream? 

HOWARD.  Don't  remember.  (HOWARD  goes  to 
chair  L.  of  table.  DR.  BERNSTEIN  goes  to  R.  c.,  pick 
ing  up  gloves  from  table  as  he  goes.  Same  time 
ANNIE  enters  from  kitchen  with  tray  of  bread,  rolls 
and  coffee,  puts  them  on  R.  side  of  table,  speaking 
as  she  comes) 

ANNIE.  Howard  mixes  up  his  meals,  Doctor — he 
always  eats  his  lunch  for  breakfast.  (Laughs) 
Don't  you?  (Bus.  with  table) 

HOWARD.  Hum — the  smell  of  toast  makes  me 
hungry. 

ANNIE.  Well,  it  isn't  toast — it's  burnt  bacon. 
(To  DOCTOR,  HOWARD  sits  L.  of  table)  Are  you 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE.  89 

sure  you  won't  join  us  ?  (Takes  food  from  tray  and 
serves  HOWARD) 

DR.  BERNSTEIN.  No,  thank  you.  (Goes  up  to 
tree,  gets  out  and  bag,  speaking  as  he  gees)  I'll 
drop  in  this  evening — good-bye,  Mrs.  Jeffries,  good 
bye,  Howard.  (Exits  door  R.  3  E.) 

HOWARD.    Good-bye. 

ANNIE.    Good-bye ! 

HOWARD.  (ANNIE  seating  herself)  He's  a  good 
chap — Dr.  Bernstein. 

ANNIE.  Yes — (Pours  out  coffee  for  HOWARD  and 
herself — serving  him  with  cream  and  sugar)  He 
helped  Brewster  make  a  monkey  of  Captain  Clinton, 
all  right. 

HOWARD.    What  did  he  want  ? 

ANNIE.  To  see  you.  (Through  scene  he  eats 
breakfast,  she  thoughtfully  stirring  and  sipping 
coffee) 

HOWARD.  About  last  night  ?  Oh,  that  was  noth 
ing — just  a  little  spell — you're  the  one  that  needs 
tuning  up — I  heard  you  crying  last  night — you 
thought  I  was  asleep — but  I  wasn't 

ANNIE.  I  was  thinking  over — what  they're  say 
ing  about  us 

HOWARD.  Let  them  say  what  they  like — why 
should  we  care  as  long  as  we're  happy? 

ANNIE.    Yes — but — are  we  happy  ? 

HOWARD.    Of  course  we  are 

ANNIE.  (Looks  at  him  tenderly)  Yes,  but 
sooner  or  later  you'll  ask  yourself  the  question  your 
friends  are  asking  now — the  question  everybody 
seems  to  be  asking 

HOWARD.    What  question? 

ANNIE.  Yesterday  a  gentleman  called  and  asked 
me  if  it  was  true  we  were  going  to  be  divorced,  if  so, 
when  and  would  I  give  him  some  information  on 
the  subject — I  asked  him  who  wanted  the  informa 
tion  and  he  said  the  readers  of  his  paper — the  people 
— I  believe  he  said  over  a  million  of  them — just 


90  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

think  Howard  over  a  million  people  all  anxiously 
waiting  to  know  why  you  don't  get  rid  of  me. 
(Sadly  and  thoughtfully  resting  her  chin  in  her  R. 
hand,  while  she  stirs  coffee) 

HOWARD.  Annie  old  girl — I  may  be  weak — I  may 
be  blind — but  nobody  on  top  of  God's  green  earth 
can  tell  me  that  you're  not  the  squarest,  straightest 
woman  that  ever  lived.  I  don't  care  a  damn  what 
one  million  or  eighty  million  think — Supposing  you 
did  get  letters  from  Underwood — supposing  you  did 
go  to  his  place  and  beg  him  not  to  kill  himself — 
what  of  it — I  don't  believe  what  they  say — because 
I  can't  believe  it — I've  tried  and  I  can't — it  isn't  in 
me  to  think  badly  of  you  and  that's  all  there  is  to  it. 

ANNIE.  (Turning  to  him  smilingly  and  taking 
his  right  hand  in  both  hers)  Howard,  you're  just 
splendid  and  I  feel  proud  of  you — but  what  of  the 
future — the  years  to  come — (Bus. — HOWARD'S  face 
falls)  Ah — you  see — you've  thought  about  it,  too — 
and  you're  trying  to  hide  it  from  me.  (Releases 
hand  and  resumes  former  attitude)  But  you  can't 
Howard — you  can't — Your  father  wants  you  to  go 
abroad  with  the  family. 

HOWARD.    Well? 

ANNIE.    Well — I  think  you'd  better  go. 

HOWARD.    Do  you  ? 

ANNIE.  He  wants  you  to  take  your  position  in 
the  world — the  position  that  I'm  preventing  you 
from  taking 

HOWARD.  (Turning  away  a  bit  to  L.)  Yes, — 
Father  has  spoken  to  me  about  it — he  wants  to  be 
friends  now  and  do  what  he  can  for  me — and  I — I 
admit  I've  promised  to  consider,  but 

ANNIE.  You're  going  to  accept  his  offer,  Howard 
• — you  owe  it  to  yourself  (Rises,  bitterly  and  tear- 
fitlly,  takes  her  own  napkin  and  folding  it  as  she 
is  going  up  and  places  it  in  drawer  of  buffet)  tp 

I  your  family  and  a  million  readers 

1  ->  HOWARD.    Annie,  why  do  you  work  against  yourr 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE.  91 

self,  all  the  time  ?    You  keep  urging  me  on,  and  urg 
ing  me  on ;  it  isn't  fair  to  yourself. 

ANNIE.  (Coming  down  to  him  and  putting  one 
arm  about  him  and  stroking  his  hair)  I  want  you 
to  be  happy — you  can't  be  happy  under  these  con 
ditions — now  be  honest  with  me — can  you  ?  (Pause) 

HOWARD.     Can  you? 

ANNIE.  No — not  unless  you  are.  Whatever 
happiness  I've  had  in  life,  I  owe  to  you,  and  God 
knows  you've  had  nothing  but  trouble  from  me. 
Come,  dear,  you  must  do  what's  best  for  yourself, 
in  doing  that — you'll  do  what  is  best  for  me.  (He 
doesn't  reply,  but  moodily  keeps  quiet)  You  must — 
(He  seems  to  yield,  she  goes  to  back  of  table  and 
commences  to  put  dishes  on  the  tray)  I'm  going  to 
pack  your  things  and  you  can  go  just  as  soon  as  you 
can  get  ready — (Assuming  a  cheerful  attitude)  I'm 
sorry  your  last  meal  was  a  burnt  one.  (He  is  still 
a  bit  thoughtful)  Come,  dear,  it's  all  for  the  best. 

HOWARD.  Well — p'r'aps — you're  right — (Bus. 
lights  a  cigarette)  Maybe  a  little  trip  through 
Europe  will  do  me  good — kind  a  pull  me  together — 
so  to  speak. 

ANNIE.  Of  course  it  will — you'll  break  down  or 
something  if  you  don't  go — (Takes  other  napkin, 
folding  it  up  as  she  goes  up  and  puts  it  in  drawer 
of  buffet)  A  trip  abroad  is  just  what  you  need — >. 
why,  your  face  has  brightened  up  already. 

HOWARD.    I  wish  you  could  go  with  us. 

ANNIE.  (Smilingly  shaking  head)  No.  (Takes 
up  crumb  tray  and  brush  and  comes  down  with  it 
and  immediately  commences  to  brush  up  crumbs) 
Where  is  it,  Paris  or  Switzerland?  (Ready  for 
door  bell) 

HOWARD.  London,  Paris — Vienna — no  I  think 
I'll  cut  Vienna  out — I'm  a  married  man — I  mustn't 
forget  that — (Smiling  at  her) 

ANNIE.     (Laughs — looks  at  him)    Why,  you've 


92  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

forgotten  it  already.  (Shaking  her  head)  Ah, 
you're  such  a  boy. 

HOWARD.  Well — now — you  said  you  wanted  me 
to  go 

ANNIE.  And  I  do — Howard,  you've  made  me 
quite  happy — yes,  you  have. 

HOWARD.  You  love  me,  and  yet  you're  happy  be 
cause  I'm  going  away — I  don't  follow  that  line  of 
reasoning. 

ANNIE.  (Puts  down  crumb  tray  and  brush — = 
comes  to  him  and  crosses  him)  It  isn't  reason — it's 
what  I  feel — I  guess  a  man  wants  to  have  what  he 
loves — and  a  woman  is  satisfied  just  to  love — what 
she  wants.  (Takes  up  sugar  bowl  and  crumb  tray 
to  buffet,  speaking  as  she  goes)  Anyway  I'm  glad 
you're  going.  Go  and  tell  your  father. 

HOWARD.  (Rise's  and  goes  up  around  table  and 
hat  tree — gets  his  hat  and  puts  it  on.  Same  time 
ANNIE  comes  to  back  of  table  and  arranges  dishes  on 
tray)  Telephone  him. 

ANNIE.  (Coming  down)  That's  right.  I'm  glad 
it's  settled. 

HOWARD.    Where's  my  stick? 

ANNIE.  In  the  corner  there.  *  (He  goes  and  gets 
it,  and  goes  right  to  door  and  opens  it)  Don't  be 
long,  dear. 

HOWARD.  Come  right  back.  (In  door  way)  By 
George — I  feel  quite  excited  at  the  prospect — 
(Comes  to  her)  It's  awfully  good  of  you,  old  girl, 
to — to  think  of  me — I  don't  think  there  are  many 
woman  like  you 

ANNIE.  Now  don't  spoil  me — (Lifts  up  tray — 
about  to  go) 

HOWARD.  Wait  till  I  kiss  you  good-bye — (Takes 
tray  from  ehr — places  it  on  table — he  kisses  her) 
Good-bye — won't  be  long 

(Bus.    Bangs  door — as  soon  as  HOWARD  has  gone 
she  crosses  to   chair  L.   of  table,  sinks  into 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE.  93 

it  and  falls  sobbing  on  x.  After  a  moment's 
pause,  door  bell  rings.  Still  half  sobbing,  she 
rises  and  crosses  to  door  R.  3  E.  drying  her  eyes' 
as  she  goes — gets  close  to  door  and  speaks.) 

ANNIE.    Who  is  there? 

BREWSTER.  (Outside)  Someone  to  see  you, 
Mrs.  Jeffries. 

ANNIE.  (Quickly  drying  her  eyes  and  repressing 
her  emotion,  opens  door  and  BREWSTER  enters)  Oh, 
Mr.  Brewster — won't  you  come  in? 

BREWSTER.  (Enters.  ANNIE  closes  door  and 
backs  L.  a  bit)  How  do  you  do,  Mrs.  Jeffries? 

ANNIE.  I'm  so  glad  to  see  you,  won't  you  sit 
down? 

(They  shake  hands — BREWSTER  puts  hat  on  dresser, 
stick  in  corner — throws  gloves  in  hat.  Comes 
doivn  to  R.  chair  of  table  and  sits;  same  time 
ANNIE  goes  to  table  picks  up  tray  and  dishes, 
takes  them  to  washtub  in  kitchen  and  puts  them 
down  there.) 

BREWSTER.  (Coming  down  to  T.  and  sits)  Your 
husband  passed  me  on  the  stairs  and  didn't  know 
me 

ANNIE.  (Returning,  goes  to  table,  takes  off  white 
table  cloth,  folding  it,  and  goes  up  to  buffet  with  it) 
The  passage  way  is  so  dark. 

BREWSTER.    Yes 

ANNIE.    Where  have  you  been? 

BREWSTER.  Mostly  on  the  ocean.  When  does 
your  husband  leave  you? 

ANNIE.  (Turning  to  him  at  buffet)  How  do 
you  know  that?  (Is  up  at  buffet  by  this  time,  gets 
out  red  table  cloth  and  comes  down  lays  it  during 
BREWSTER'S  speech) 

BREWSTER.  Hadn't  been  back  in  New  York  an 
hour  when  his  father's  lawyer  asked  me  for  all  the 


9?  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

evidence  I  had — They  want  to  use  it  against  you — 
the  idea  is  that  he  shall  go  abroad  with  his  father 
and  that  divorce  proceedings  will  be  begun  during 
his  absence. 

ANNIE.    Howard  knows  nothing  about  it 

BREWSTER.     Sure  ? 

ANNIE.     (At  back  of  table)     Quite  sure 

BREWSTER.    But  he  is  going  away? 

ANNIE.  (Coming  to  L.  of  table  and  sitting) 
yes — I  want  him  to  go — I  am  sending  him  away. 

BREWSTER.  Do  you  know  they  intend  to  make 
Robert  Underwood  the  ground  for  the  application 
for  divorce  and  to  use  your  own  perjured  testimony 
as  a  weapon  against  you.  You  see  what  a  lie  leads 
to — there's  no  end  to  it — and  you  are  compelled  to 
go  on  lying  to  support  the  original  lie — and  that's 
precisely  where  I  intervene. 

ANNIE.  (Nods)  I  knew  you  were  going  to  scold 
me. 

BREWSTER.  Scold  you — no — it's  myself  I'm  scold 
ing — it's  my  fault — you  did  what  you  thought  was 
right  and  I  allowed  you  to  do  what  I  knew  was 
wrong. 

ANNIE.    You  made  two  miserable  women  happy. 

BREWSTER.  I  tried  to  excuse  myself  on  those 
grounds,  but  it  won't  work — I  violated  my  oath  as  a 
lawyer — my  intergrity  as  a  man — my  honor — my 
self-respect — all  upset — I've  been  a  very  unpleasant 
companion  for  myself  lately — I  should  have  pre 
vented  it 

ANNIE.  How?  My  affidavit  was  sworn  to  when 
you  arrived  at  Police  headquarters — you  were  too 
late,  Mr.  Brewster — Captain  Clinton  said  you  didn't 
understand  Police  Court  methods — those  gentlemen 
get  up  very  early. 

BREWSTER.  I  should  have  gone  before  the  grand 
jury  and  told  them  the  truth,  and  that's  what  brings 
me  here  this  morning — the  first  move  they  make 
against  you  I'll  tell  the  whole  story. 


•  JHE  THIRD  DEGREE.  95 

ANNIE.  I  don't  believe  Howard's  father  will  dare 
go  that  far. 

BREWSTER.  Oh,  Howard's  father  is — a — a — 
(Hesitates) 

ANNIE.  (Leaning  on  table)  ^Von't  you  please 
say  it  ? 

BREWSTER.  He's  an  obstinate,  self-satisfied  old 
martinet. 

ANNIE.  Is  that  all?  I  could  have  done  better 
than  that  myself — if  they  do  succeed  in  influencing 
him  to  bring  a  suit  against  me,  I  shan't  defend  it. 

BREWSTER.  (Rises  and  goes  down  R.)  Perhaps 
not,  but  I  will.  (Coming  back  to  behind  R.  u.  end 
of  table)  It's  unjust,  Annie,  it's  unrighteous,  it's 
impossible. 

ANNIE.    But  I  am  to  blame. 

BREWSTER.  You're  too  anxious  to  blame  your 
self. 

ANNIE.  (Leans  on  table  toward  him)  Let  me 
tell  you  something,  Mr..  Brewster:  I  deceived 
Howard  as  to  my  age,  I'm  older  than  he  is,  he  thinks 
I'm  younger. 

BREWSTER.  Well  you're  not  the  first  woman  who 
has  done  that,  believe  me.  However,  you'll  look  25 
when  he's  40,  and  that's  an  extenuating  circumstance. 

ANNIE.  I  took  advantage  of  his  inexperience, 
Mr.  Brewster,  and  I'm  not  going  to  let'  this  one 
mistake  ruin  his  career. 

BREWSTER.  He's  twenty-five — and  if  boys  of  that 
age  are  not  men — they  never  will  be — upon  my 
word — if  I  was  twenty-five  I'd  let  this  divorce  go 
through  and  marry  you  myself.  (Goes  down  R.  up 
R.  and  down  again  through  laugh) 

ANNIE.     (Leans  on  table)     Oh,  Mr.  Brewster! 

BREWSTER.  (Goes  up  R.  then  down  again  to  R.  u. 
end  of  table)  But  I'm  not — so  we  won't  discuss  it 
• — now  don't  pretend  to  be  pleased. 

ANNIE.     (Leaning  on  table)    But  I  am  pleased, 


96  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

Mr.  Brewster — whether  you  mean  it  or  not — It  was 

a  nice  thing  to  say 

BREWSTER.  (Coming  to  back  of  table)  At  this 
precious  moment  I  can't  say  whether  I  meant  it  or 
not,  but  you  are  a  rare  woman,  and  you're  not  above 
telling  unpleasant  truths  about  yourself — and  God 
knows  that's  rare  enough  in  a  woman — or  a  man, 
either. 

(Enter  HOWARD  JEFFRIES  R.  3  E.  Puts  hat  on  tree, 
stick  in  corner,  sees  MR.  BREWSTER,  comes  to 
him,  glad  to  see  him.) 

HOWARD.    Mr.  Brewster — well! 

BREWSTER.  How  do  you  do  young  man — hum — 
you  look  very  pleased  with  yourself. 

HOWARD.  This  is  the  first  opportunity  I've  had 
to  thank  you  for  your — your — kindness. 

BREWSTER.  You  can  thank  your  wife,  my  boy — 
So  you're  going  abroad — eh? 

HOWARD.  Yes — did  Annie  tell  you  ?  It's  only  for 
a  few  months. 

BREWSTER.    Only  for  a  few  months,  eh? 

HOWARD.  I've  just  told  father — over  the  phone — 
that  I'd  made  up  my  mind  to  go. 

BREWSTER.  Well,  I  don't  approve  of  it — don't  in 
terrupt  me.  Young  man — I  don't  approve  of  it — 
and  you  can  tell  your  father  I  said  so. 

ANNIE.  Oh,  Mr.  Brewster — please !  (Rises  and 
goes  up  L.) 

HOWARD.  Why  don't  you  approve  of  it,  Mr. 
Brewster  ? 

BREWSTER.    Because 

ANNIE.    Mr.  Brewster,  please 

HOWARD.  (Demands)  Why  don't  you  approve  ? 
(Pause)  I  want  an  answer. 

BREWSTER.  (Sees  that  ANNIE  does  not  want  him 
to  speak)  Well — because  I  don't.  (Crosses  down 
to  L.  HOWARD  following) 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE.  97 

HOWARD.  That's  not  a  satisfactory  reply,  Mr. 
Brewster.  (Pause)  You  must  have  some  reason. 

BREWSTER.    I  have  several  reasons. 

HOWARD.    Then  please  tell  me. 

BREWSTER.  (Turning  to  him)  Let  me  ask  you 
why  you  are  going  away? 

HOWARD.    Because — because — I-j-(Pause) 

ANNIE.    I  want  him  to  go. 

BREWSTER.  I'll  tell  you,  Howard,  my  boy,  you're 
going  away  to  escape  from  the  talking  scandal 
mongers,  and  the  whispering  busybodies.  Forgive 
me  for  speaking  plainly,  but  you're  going  away  be 
cause  your  wife's  conduct  is  a  topic  of  conversation 
among  your  friends. 

HOWARD.  (Crosses  to  c.)  I  neither  know  nor 
care  what  they  say. 

BREWSTER.  And  that's  the  reason  you  leave  her 
here  to  fight  the  battle  alone. 

(ANNIE  comes  down  between  them.) 

HOWARD.  (Realises  the  truth  of  BREWSTER'S  re 
mark)  To  fight  the  battle  alone  ? 

BREWSTER.  Yes,  you  are  giving  the  world  a 
weapon  with  which  to  strike  at  your  wife. 

HOWARD.  (Bus.  Almost  gasps)  I  never  thought 
of  that.  I  wanted  to  get  away  from  it  all.  Father 
offered  me  the  chance.  Annie,  you — you  under 
stand — (Falters,  comes  to  her) 

ANNIE.  (Turns  to  BREWSTER  with  the  idea  of 
protecting  HOWARD)  Mr.  Brewster,  you've  gone 
far  enough.  (To  HOWARD)  He  didn't  mean  what 
he  said,  Howard.  (Turns  to  BREWSTER)  How  can 
you  talk  to  him  in  that  manner,  Mr.  Brewster? 

(BREWSTER  laughs  at  her  attitude,  and  goes  up  L.  a 
bit.) 

HOWARD.  He's  quite  right,  Annie.  I  should 
never  have  consented  to  go.  I  was  wrong,  wrong 
from  the  very  first,  and  I  am  not  going  away. 


98  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

BREWSTER.  (Coming  down)  Good  boy!  Now, 
Mrs.  Jeffries,  I  ask  permission  to  tell  your  husband 
the  truth. 

ANNIE.    No. 

BREWSTER.  Then  I'll  tell  him  without  your  per 
mission.  (ANNIE  crosses  to  c.)  Howard,  the  Mrs. 
Jeffries  who  visited  Underwood  that  night  was  not 
your  wife. 

HOWARD.    Not  my  wife  ? 

BREWSTER.    No.    It  was  the  other  Mrs.  Jeffries. 

HOWARD.  The  other  Mrs.  Jeffries?  Then  I 
did  hear  her  voice!  She  was  there,  and — and — 
(Realises  that  MRS.  JEFFRIES  is  the  woman)  Ah, 
Annie,  Annie — couldn't  you  have  trusted  me? 

ANNIE.  (To  BREWSTER)  I  asked  you  not  to  say 
anything. 

(BREWSTER  crosses  up  to  tree  for  hat  and  stick.) 

HOWARD.  (Crosses  to  ANNIE)  You  saved  my 
step-mother  from  disgrace,  you  spared  my  father! 
Ah,  it  was  splendid — splendid,  Annie. 

ANNIE.    What  of  the  future,  Howard  ? 

BREWSTER.  (Coming  down  to  R.  c.)  You'll  come 
into  my  office  and  study  law. 

HOWARD.  Thank  you  Mr.  Brewster.  (To 
ANNIE)  And  you'll  forgive  me  for  wanting  to 
leave  you,  won't  you,  old  girl? 

ANNIE.  Don't  call  me  old  girl,  Howard,  because 
it's  true.  (Embrace) 

CURTAIN. 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 


99 


« 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

PROPERTY  AND  FURNITURE  PLOT. 

PLACE: — New  York.  PERIOD: — The  present. 

ACT  I. 

(A  room  in  the  apartment  of  an  art-commissioner.) 

Ground  cloth.    Oriental  medallion.    Rugs. 
Tiger-skin    rug   at   fireplace.      Black    fur   rug    on 

window-seat  c. 
Tapestry  portieres  at  arch  c.  (to  be  drawn  to  cover 

opening) 

Dark  silk  curtains  on  bay  window  c. 
Mantel  and  fireplace  down  L. 
Window-seat  in  window  c. 
Baby-grand  piano  up  R.  (keyboard  down-stage) 
Bench  below  piano. 
Table  down  R.  c. 
Table  down  L.  c. 
Table  up  c. 

Table  in  alcove  R.  of  piano. 

Small  Japanese  table  above  fireplace  L.,  with  lamp. 
Small  stand  below  fireplace. 
Pedestal  up  L.  corner. 

Standing  clock  (Colonial)  below  fireplace  L. 
Large  settee  L.  of  table  L.  c. 
Antique  settee  up  L. 
Armchair  R.  of  piano. 
Armchair  L.  of  piano. 
Armchair  L.  of  table  up  c. 
Chair  R.  of  table  L.  c. 

100 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE.  101 

Chair  (high-backed)  back  of  table  R.  C. 

Chair  L.  of  arch  up  c. 

Chair  above  door  R. 

Footstool  below  chair  L.  of  piano. 

Spanish-leather  screen  (4-fold  and  6  feet  high)  back 

of  settee  L. 

Man  in  armour  below  door  R. 

Large  Chinese  vase  or  bowl  below  man  in  armour. 
Large  brass  bowl  (with  a  little  water)  back  of  table 

L.  c.  (for  lighted  cigarettes) 
Old-fashioned  harp  above  piano. 
Tapestry  hangings,  handsome  framed  paintings — old 

and  new  etchings,  etc.,  on  walls. 
Statues,  carved  ivories,  art-pottery,  bric-a-brac,  etc., 

ad  lib. 

(NOTE: — No  picture  over  door  R.) 

AT  FIREPLACE  L. — Large  brass  fireirons,   fender, 

poker — shovel — tongs  in  stand. 
ON    MANTEL   L. — Large   ornamental   clock.     Two 

large  candelabra.     Pottery,  and  ornaments  ad 

lib. 
ON  SETTEE  L.  c. — Sofa  cushions.    Tapestry  drapery. 

N.  Y.  evening  paper. 
ON  TABLE  L.  c. — Large  silver  tray.     Decanter  of 

Scotch   Whiskey.      Syphon   of   seltzer.     Two 

highball    glasses.      Cigarettes    in    silver    box. 

Matches     in     ornamental     stand.       Ash-tray. 

Cigars  in  silver  stand. 
ON  TABLE  below  fireplace  L. — Several  small  bronze 

figures  and  ivory  carvings. 

ON  WINDOW  SEAT  up  c. — Draperies.    Several  paint 
ings,  framed  and  unf ramed,  on  seat  and  on  floor 

leaning  against  seat. 
ON     PIANO     R. — Oriental     runner-scarf.       Large 

antique  lamp.     Statue.     Vase.     Bowl.     Sheet 

music. 


102  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

ON  TABLE  up  c. — Practical  desk-telephone  (Elec 
trician).  N.  Y.  Telephone  diectory.  Books. 
Magazines. 

ON  TABLE  down  R.  c. — Six  books  (to  mask  re 
flector.) 

ON  TABLE  r.  of  piano — Large  and  small  statuettes. 

ON  PEDESTAL  up  L.  corner — Large  vase. 

NOTE: — When  curtain  is  down  on  the  first  scene — 
Close  screen  and  lean  it  against  wall  above  fire 
place.  Move  HOWARD'S  coat  and  hat  from  chair 
c.  to  piano.  Unlock  door  L. 

SIDE 

R.  i  E. — Sure-fire  revolver  (Stage  Manager) 

HAND 

MRS.  JEFFRIES — Written  letter  in  stamped  and  ad 
dressed  square  envelope,  which  has  been  opened, 
(see  text,  ACT  III,  page  — ) 

MALONEY — Note  book  and  pencil.  Handcuffs,  with 
key. 

CLINTON — Nickel  plated  38  cal.  revolver. 

DR.  BERNSTEIN  -Watch  and  chain. 

Silver  cigarette  box  on  table  L.  c. 

Watch  Hnnd  on  table  L.  c. 

Glass  Jar  with  cigars  on  table  L.  c. 

Syphon  of  Seltzer  on  table  L.  c. 

Decanter  of  Whiskey  on  table  L.  c. 

High-ball  glasses  on  table  L.  c. 

Brass  Bowl  on  Floor  Back  of  table. 

38- Calibre  nickel  mounted  Revolver  for  Capt. 
Clinton. 

A  pair  of  Nippers  for  Maloney. 

Written  letter  (used  in  ACT  III)  for  Mrs.  Jeffries, 
ST. 

Sufficient  number  of  books  on  Table  L.  c.  to  mask 
reflector. 

Sure-fire  Pistol  off  R.  2  E. 

Door  Bell  off  L.  3  E. 

Cigarette  case  and  cigarette  for  Howard. 

Cigarette  case  and  cigarette  for  Underwood. 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

LIGHT  PLOT. 
ACT  I. 

Box,  blue,  R.  and  L.  of  window  c. 

Bunch,  red  and  orange,  in  fireplace  L. 

Strip  (2-lamp)  over  door  R.  and  door  L. 

Handsome  lamp  on  table  above  fireplace  L.,  lighted 
at  rise. 

Handsome  lamp  on  table  R.  of  piano,  lighted  at  rise. 

Practical  telephone  on  table  up  c.,  with  connection 
to  prompt  entrance. 

Dome  chandelier  R.  c.,  over  table,  lighted  at  rise. 

This  fixture  is  plugged  independently  and  must  have 
switch  to  be  worked  by  a  character  on  stage — it 
hangs  low  enough  for  the  switch  to  be  reached. 

Electric  picture-illuminator  (not  practical)  over 
door  R. 

On  table  R.  c.  have  a  single  32  c-p  lamp  backed  by  a 
small,  brilliant  reflector;  this  light  is  masked 
by  some  books ;  it  is  so  arranged  as  to  throw 
light  upon  the  face  of  a  person  sitting  back  of 
the  table.  This  light  goes  on  while  the  curtain 
is  down  between  scenes. 

Push  button-switch  on  wall  below  door  R. 

AT  RISE 

Foots  24  up. 

....  lot  of  sheep  led  by  you.     (UNDER 
WOOD) 

READY 

....  (as  UNDERWOOD  pushes  switch  R.) 

Chandelier  and  Table  Lamps  Out. 
103 


104  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

FOOTS    Out. 

As  soon  as  the  curtain  is  down 

Chandelier  ON. 

Reflector-light  on  table  R.  c.  ON. 

Grate  in  fireplace  OUT. 

Bunch  in  fireplace  OUT. 

Change  box  back  of  window  from  blue  to  amber. 

READY 

.     .     .     .     I     shot     Robert     Underwood. 
(HOWARD) 

.    .     (as  MALONEY  opens  curtains  at  arch 
c.) 

Foots  UP  to  FULL. 

.    .     (as  MALONEY  turns  switch  on  chan 
delier) 

Chandelier  OUT. 

Reflector-light  OUT. 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 


105 


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io6  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

PROPERTX  AND  FURNITURE  PLOT. 

ACT  II. 
(The  Law  Office  of  RICHARD  BREWSTER.) 

Ground  cloth.    Medallion.    Rugs. 

Roller-shade  at  window  c. 

Built-in  bookcase,  with  book-backing  up  R.  and  R.  c., 
and  up  L.  and  L.  c. 

Consultation  table  (8  feet  long)  c. 

Table  down  L. 

Table  up  R. 

Table  up  L. 

Easy  chair  R.  of  table  c. 

Armchair  back  of  table  c. 

Armchair  below  table  c. 

Library  ladder  of  4  steps,  L.  of  window. 

Armchair  down  R. 

Chair  L.  of  table  c. 

Chair  above  door  R. 

Chair  up  L. 

Framed  portraits  of  members  of  the  U.  S.  Supreme 
Court,  and  of  eminent  American  statesmen,  on 
walls. 

ON  TABLE  c. — Eight  law  books.  Large  double  ink 
stand.  Four  pens.  Four  pencils.  Blotters. 
Letter  paper  and  envelopes.  Legal-cap  paper. 
Long  envelopes.  Two  letter-size  writing  pads. 
Three  memorandum  pads.  Two  printed  pam 
phlets.  Several  typewritten  legal  documents. 

ON  TABLE  down  L. — Law  books.  Silver  tray. 
Water  in  pitcher.  Tumbler.  Newspapers. 
Law  magazines. 

PN  TABLE  up  R.  and  up  L. — Law  books.  Writing 
pad. 

SIDE 

R.  2  E. — Three  visiting-cards  (different  sizes). 
( JONES)  Several  typewritten  sheets  of  legal 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

size  paper ;  law  book  in  which  papers  are  served. 

(BREWSTER) 
HAND 

JONES — Law  book  ;  two  legal  documents ;  pen. 
ANNIE — Hand-bag  with  purse,  visiting-card,  etc. 


ACT  II. 
LIGHT  PLOT. 

All  lights  full-up. 

Electric  Push  buttons  up  stage  R.  of  window. 

Electric  Light  Switch  R.  of  door  R.  2  E. 

Amber  and  white  lamps  in  foots. 

Box — amber — R.  and  L.  of  window  c. 

Amber  and  white  lamps  in  ist  Border. 

Straw  strips  at  window  c. 

Amber  and  white  strips  in  doors  R.  and  L. 


io8 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 


w 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE.       109 

PROPERTY  AND  FURNITURE  PLOT. 
ACT  III. 

(Library  in  the  home  of  RICHARD  BREWSTER.) 

Ground  cloth.    Medallion.     Rugs. 

Portieres  at  arch  c. 

Curtains  at  bay  window  c.     (Cream  scrim) 

Massive  mantel  and  fireplace  down  L. 

Bookcase  up  R. 

Bookcase  up  L. 

Table  (6  feet  long)  c. 

Writing-table  down  R. 

Table  L.  of  window  c. 

Table  below  bookcase  R. 

Tabaret  below  fireplace  L. 

Pedestal  above  fireplace  L. 

Pedestal  L.  of  bookcase  up  R 

Long  settee  in  window  c. 

Easy  chair  near  fireplace  L. 

Armchair  R.  of  table  c. 

Armchair  back  of  table  c. 

Armchair  R.  of  window  c. 

Chair  L.  of  table  c. 

Chair  L.  of  window  R. 

Chair  R.  of  bookcase  L. 

Handsome  paintings  and  engravings  on  walls. 

AT  FIREPLACE  L. — Black  andirons,  fender,  poker, 

shovel  and  tongs  in  stand. 

ON  MANTEL  L. — Large  ornaments.    Art-pottery. 
ON   BOOKCASE — Busts,  statuettes,  etc.     Books  on 

shelves. 
ON  SETTEE  in  window  c. — Sofa  cushions.     Books. 

Magazines.     Newspaper. 
ON  TABARET  down  L. — Handsome  jardiniere  with 

palm. 


1  io  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

ON  PEDESTAL  down  L. — Ornamental  bowl. 

ON  PEDESTAL  up  R. — Statuette. 

ON  TABLE  L.  of  window — Art-folios. 

ON  TABLE  below  bookcase  R. — Books.  Magazines. 
Vase. 

ON  WRITING  TABLE  down  R. — Large  desk-set. 
Paper  and  envelopes  in  rack.  Calendar.  Ink 
stand.  Pens.  Blotter,  etc. 

ON  TABLE  c. — Four  books.  Three  law  books. 
Humidor  with  cigars.  Matches  in  ornamental 
stand.  Two  ash-receivers.  Two  letter-size 
writing  pads.  Two  memorandum  pads.  Three 
pencils.  Five  reports,  each  consisting  of  five  or 
six  typewritten  sheets  of  legal-size  paper,  with 
backing  paper,  fastened  at  the  top.  Six  news 
paper  clippings,  of  different  lengths,  each  pasted 
in  the  center  of  a  sheet  of  writing-paper. 

Handsome  large  brass  clock  for  c.  of  mantel. 

Two  handsome  brass  candelabra  or  figures  for 
end  of  mantel. 

2  other  appropriate  vases  or  ornaments  for  mantel. 
Rich  red  carpet  down. 

Black  fur  medallion  or  rug  in  c.  over  carpet. 

Handsome  red  portieres  for  c.  arch. 

Large  armchair  up  L.  corner. 

Pedestal  with  bronze  bust  of  Lincoln  to  R.  of  it. 

Pedestal  with  large  majolica  Jardinieres  containing 
Boston  Fern. 

Armchair  at  F.  P. 

Armchair  back  of  T.  c. 

Chair  L.  of  it. 

Chair  L.  of  writing  T.  R. 

Large  chair  up  R.  c. 

Chair  R.  of  arch. 

Jhese  chairs  should  all  vary  in  design  and  upholstery, 
but  must  harmonize  with  the  color  scheme  of  the 
set.  Red  and  black  should  be  in  leather,  some 
in  red,  some  tapestry,  some  high  borders,  some 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE.  in 

lower,  Elizabethan  and  other  Old  English 
periods. 

A  heavy  covered  old  English  library  table  in  black 
or  weathered  oak  (no  mahogany) 

Small  writing  table  of  the  same  character  R.,  on 
which  is  writing  pad,  inkcase,  blotter,  stationery 
holder  (they  come  in  sets)  of  red  leather,  about 
4^  feet  high;  bookcase  extending  about  12 
inches  from  wall ;  running  at  R.  and  L.  Angle 
frame  join  R.  w.  corner  of  set  and  extending  to 
door  jamb  and  to  arch. 

These  bookcases  to  be  filled  with  books — on  top  of 
the  bookcases  are  sufficient  vases,  ornaments, 
photos  in  frames,  etc.,  to  practically  but  not 
vulgarly  cover  them. 

On  the  table  a  humidor  filled  with  cigars. 

5  distinct  Legal  Reports. 

These  must  each  consist  of  6  sheets  of  large-sized, 
square  leather  paper,  typewritten  and  held  to 
gether  in  the  L.  upper  corner,  so  that  they  may 
be  easily  turned. 

6  clippings  of  newspapers  of  various  lengths,  pasted 

in  the  c.  of  white  paper. 

3  or  4  books. 

A  memorandum  stand. 

A  silver  match  stand  and  ash  receiver. 

A  silver  salver  outside  D.  L.  3  E. 

4  visiting  cards  outside  D.  L.  3  E. 

[Written  letter  properly  enveloped,  stamped,  and 
cancelled,  used  in  ACT  I,  and  read  in  this  act — 
for  Mrs.  Jeffries,  Sr. 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

LIGHT  PLOT. 
ACT  III. 

Foots  and  borders — amber  and  white. 

Strip  and  amber  and  white  in  L.  3  E.  and  R.  3  E. 

Fancy  lamp  and  shade  to  match  scene  color  scheme, 

wind  practical  wire  on  T.  R. 
Two  3  light  score  of  black  wrought-iron  with  fancy 

red  shades  on  wall  R.  and  wall  L.     Wind  for 

practical  use. 
Handsome  grate — dogs,  fenders,  and  brush,  shovel, 

poker,  etc.,  for  F.  p.    These  should  be  of  black 

wrought-iron,  of  antique  design.    Fire  in  grate. 
Fire  glow  on  in  F.  p. 
All  lights  full  up. 
Electric  push  button  L.  of  door  R. 
Handsome  chandelier  c.,  lighted. 
Four  brackets  with  silk  shades,  lighted. 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 
I 


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114      THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

ACT  IV. 
PROPERTY  AND  FURNITURE  PLOT. 

In  the  center  a  Mothered  Oak  Dining  table — covered 

at  rise  with  clean  white  table  cloth. 
Dining  chairs  to  match  R.  and  L.  and  back  of  it — a 

chair. 

Same  kind  down  L.  of  arch. 
Small  medallion  down,  rugs  at  all  openings  and  in 

front  of  couch  and  china  closet. 
Wash  tubs  (usual  in  flats)  against  wall  of  backing 

in  arch. 
Oil  cloth  to  cover  tubs. 

In  kitchen  on  chair 

A  small  door  bell  usual  to  flat  in  N.  Y. 

Chair  on  which  is  a  tray  containing  a  plate  with  3 

strips  of  bacon,  a  splat  of  rolls,  2  plates  and  pot 

of  hot  coffee. 
Over  the  wash  tubs,  a  shelf  running  length  of  shelf, 

on  which  are  a  kitchen  clock,  canisters  and 

caddies  for  tea,  coffee,  etc. 
Hanging  from  shelf,  some  kitchen  utensils,  these 

must  be  bright  and  shiny.    The  shelf  is  trimmed 

with  edged  paper. 
In  the  L.  u.  corner,  set  obliquely  across,  a  china 

closet — dressed  with  china,  cut  glass,  cups,  etc., 

fancy  and  plain.    On  the  top  some  steins  and 

two  handsome  beer  steins. 
Against  wall  at  back  R.  a  small  buffet.    This  must 

be  dressed  with  cut  glass,  silver  pieces,  etc., 

according  to  taste. 
On  the  buffet  at  rise,  must  be  2  cups  and  saucers, 

sugar  bowl  with  sugar,  cream  jug,  2  knives  and 

forks,  2  teaspoons,  in  the  drawer  easy  of  access 

must  be,  a  dark  red  table  cloth  and  2  clean 

napkins. 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE.  115 

Hat  tree  with  overcoat,  between  buffet  and  door. 
Plain  dark  brown  couch  under  window. 
Above  couch  against  jog,  steam  radiator. 
Tree,  curtains  and  red  portieres  for  window  R. 
The  lace  curtains  are  close  together — the  portieres 

drawn  back. 
In  the  corner  by  radiator  a  silver  topped  cane  for 

Howard. 

Cigarettes  for  Howard. 
Matches  for  Howard. 
Physicians'  bag  for  Dr.  Bernstein. 
Lambrequin  and  portieres  draped  back  of  some  light 

creton  material,  for  top  and  sides  of  kitchen. 
Bureau — back  of  door  up  c.  on  which  are  a  bureau 

scarf — some  toilet  articles,  collars,  pin  cushions, 

neckties,  etc. 

LIGHT  PLOT. 

All  lights  full  up. 

Foots  and  borders,  white  and  amber. 

Combination  chandelier  of  4  lights  (not  used). 

Straw  strip  at  window  R. 

White  and  amber  strip  back  of  door  up  c. 

White  and  amber  strip  in  kitchen  L. 

A  square  piece  of  iron  plate  about  12  to  16  inches 
square,  which  must  be  thoroughly  heated  to 
produce  hissing  sound  and  steam  when  water 
is  thrown  on  it — at  cue — IMPORTANT. 

DRESS  PLOT. 
PLACE  : — New  York  City.      PERIOD  : — The  present. 

ACT      I.     Winter.     Night. 
ACT    II.    Afternoon,  a  few  days  later. 
ACT  III.     The  same  evening. 
ACT  IV.     Morning,  a  few  weeks  later. 
RICHARD  BREWSTER  (age  50) 


n6  THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

ACT    II.     Frock  coat,  dark  trousers,  etc. 

ACT  III.     Evening  dress. 

ACT  IV.     Frock  coat,  light  trousers,  overcoat,  silk 

hat,  gloves,  cane,  etc. 
HOWARD  JEFFRIES,  SR.  (age  60) 
ACT      I.     Dark  trousers,  overcoat,  silk  hat,  cane, 

gloves,  etc. 

ACT    II.     Frock  suit,  silk  hat,  cane,  gloves,  etc. 
ACT  III.     Evening  dress. 
HOWARD  JEFFRIES,  JR.  (age  25) 
ACT      I.     Dark  sack  suit,  overcoat,  hat,  etc. 
ACT  IV.     Sack  suit,  light  overcoat,  hat,  cane,  etc. 
ROBERT  UNDERWOOD  (age  35) 

Evening  dress. 
MR.  BENNINGTON  (age  45) 

Dark  suit,  overcoat,  hat,  etc. 
DR.  BERNSTEIN  (age  45) 
ACT      I.    Dark  suit,  overcoat,  hat,  etc. 
ACT  III.     Frock  suit. 
ACT  IV.     Dark  suit,  overcoat,  hat,  etc. 
CAPTAIN  CLINTON  (age  45) 
ACT      I.     Dark  sack  suit,  overcoat,  hat,  etc. 
ACT  III.     Frock  suit,  silk  hat,  etc. 
MALONEY  (age  35) 

ACT      I.     Dark  sack  suit,  overcoat,  hat,  etc. 
ACT  III.     Dark  sack  suit. 
JONES  (age  40) 

Black  coat  and  vest,  light  trousers,  etc. 
POLICEMAN — Uniform. 
ELEVATOR  ATTENDANT — Uniform. 
SERVANT — Evening  dress;  low  collar,  black  string 

tie. 

MRS.  HOWARD  JEFFRIES,  SR.  (age  30) 
ACT      I.     Dark  evening  gown,  wrap,  gloves,  etc. 
ACT    II.     Afternoon    walking    dress,    hat,    furs, 

gloves,  etc. 

ACT  III.    Light  evening  gown,  wrap,  gloves,  etc. 
MRS.  HOWARD  JEFFRIES,  JR.  (a^e  28) 
ACTS  I,  II,  III 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE.  117 

Neat  cloth  suit,  hat,  modest  furs,  gloves,  etc. 
ACT  IV.    Dark  skirt,  light  or  white  shirtwaist. 


CURTAIN  CALLS. 
ACT  I. 

FIRST — ANNIE.    JEFFRIES,  SR. 

SECOND — ANNIE  JEFFRIES,  SR.    CLINTON,  HOWARD. 

THIRD — ANNIE  HOWARD. 

ACT  II. 

FIRST — ANNIE  BREWSTER. 

SECOND — ANNIE   BREWSTER,   MRS.  JEFFRIES,  MR. 

JEFFRIES,  JONES. 
THIRD — ANNIE  BREWSTER. 

ACT  III. 

Second  Picture. 

FIRST — ANNIE,  MRS.  JEFFRIES,  BREWSTER. 
SECOND — Same,  with  MR.  JEFFRIES  and  CLINTON. 
THIRD — ANNIE. 
FOURTH — ANNIE  BREWSTER. 

ACT  IV. 
THESE  ON  AT  CURTAIN. 


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STAMPED  BELOW 

Books  not  returned  on  time  are  subject  to  a  fine  of 
50c  t>er  volume  after  the  third  day  overdue,  increasing 
to  $1.00  per  volume  after  the  sixth  day.  Books  not  in 
demand  may  be  renewed  if  application  is  made  before 
expiration  of  loan  period. 


I 


MAY  |<M928 

JftN  251922 

«PR  11 198? 


JUN  *  ) 


J  L  H 

19Jan'59AJ 


REC'D 


SENT  OH  ILL 

NOV  3  0  2001 

U.  C.  BERKELEY 


11)32 


50m-7,'16 


384733 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


